


I'm not Daredevil

by Callistemon



Series: Get Up [4]
Category: Daredevil (Comics), Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Dogs, Epilepsy, Gen, Hospitals, Human Disaster Matt Murdock, Hurt Matt Murdock, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Reveal, Matt Murdock & Foggy Nelson Friendship, Matt Murdock Needs a Hug, Neurological Disorders, Seizures, Sickfic, Whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-07
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2020-10-11 15:31:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 21,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20548472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Callistemon/pseuds/Callistemon
Summary: With Fisk and Mr Fear in jail, Matt assumed his life would get back to normal... well, relative normal - he still had the epilepsy gained from far too many Daredevil-related head injuries.However, someone's leaked to The Bulletin that Daredevil is in fact the blind Hell's Kitchen attorney, Matt Murdock. All of a sudden the Kitchen Irish seem the least of Matt's concerns.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn't sure if I'd return to this series, but then I read this terrific book on pleasure (from an essentialist POV), and argued that one of the unique human pleasures is being immersed in a story to the extent that it almost becomes an alternate reality. Writing this series does that to me, so I've abandoned all my half-arsed attempts at other Daredevil stories and bring you the fourth instalment of Get Up. 
> 
> For those unfamiliar with the other stories, you can start reading from here because I'll reintroduce characters and situations and so on, but I recommend also reading number 1 if you have time (mainly because it's short). If anything's confusing, let me know.

Matt gave a grunt of annoyance. The sharp rapping at the door of Fogwell’s was an untimely interruption. He held the bag still, tilting his head and frowning before he slowly made his way to the door.

“Kirsten McDuffie, this is unexpected,” Matt said cooly as he opened the double lock.

“Why so formal, Matthew Murdock,” Kirsten replied facetiously. She peered over Matt’s shoulder. “This is looking a bit different.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Matt said, deliberately difficult.

“Ha ha. Can I come in?”

Matt rolled his eyes, but stepped aside. He trailed after Kirsten as she explored the space, pausing when Daisy ran up to say hi, her tail wagging furiously.

“So this is Danny Rand’s new project,” she said. “Fixing Fogwell’s after it was half-destroyed by Larry Cranston.”

“One of them,” Matt replied, still cagey. He ran his hand along the white painted wall. During Fogwell’s renovations he’d managed to convince Danny to keep the many old promotional fight posters that had adorned the gym, but they were now hidden behind protective glass along one wall. “Archival protection”, he’d told Matt. The other walls were fresh painted, as clean and poisonous-smelling as the new bags and ring that dotted the room. Still, they would eventually off-gas. And at least Matt now had a private place to work out. Only Danny and a few others had access.

“You got your cast off,” Kirsten said, nodding at his arm.

“Huh? Oh, yeah.” Matt flexed his hand, feeling a slight ache underneath the wraps. It was his first workout since breaking his wrist in his encounter with Mr Fear AKA Larry Cranston.

“How are you?”

“Fine,” Matt said in a clipped tone.

Kirsten nodded slowly in the awkward silence that followed. “So,” she finally started. Matt tipped his head slightly, waiting for her to continue. But she instead crouched down next to the dog and scratched behind her ears.

Matt gave a frustrated huff. “Why are you here?”

“Larry is in jail. Melvin’s case was dismissed.” She looked Matt up and down. “Now it’s your turn. Tell me, how do you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Come on, are we really doing this? You know exactly what I’m talking about...” She paused and then added in a stage whisper, “Daredevil.”

Matt wandered over to his gym bag and started unwrapping his hands. “I’m afraid I don’t. You’re implying we had some sort of deal. We didn’t. That would be against the law.”

“Don’t kid yourself. Larry went to jail on charges of everything from murder to drug trafficking. And as his victim, Melvin’s charges were legitimately dropped. Do not imply that I’m crooked. Don’t you _dare_.”

Matt shrugged. “I’d avoid using the word ‘deal’ then.”

Kirsten gave a small growl of frustration. “You’re Daredevil,” Kirsten whispered. “There’s no point denying it.”

Matt turned to her with a huff. “Does that mean you want to charge me, Assistant District Attorney McDuffie?”

Kirsten rolled her eyes. When she didn’t respond, Matt went back to packing up his gear.

Matt turned and started towards his towel that was slung across the side of the ring. Kirsten quickly and quietly placed her handbag in his path. Matt paused inches away from the handbag, snapping his fingers with an “oops” and returning to his duffle where he drew out a sleeveless tee to cover his bare chest. He flexed his muscles as he pulled it over his head, enjoying Kirsten’s slight surge in pulse rate. He was annoyed at the interruption to his workout, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy flirting.

As Matt turned back to the towel changing his path ever so slightly to avoid the bag, Kirsten stuck out one foot. He immediately turned sideways towards his small dog, Daisy, a treat in hand. “Here, girl,” he said, crouching at the side of the overexcited pooch.

Kirsten rolled her eyes.

Matt gave Daisy another pat before continuing towards the ring. Kirsten nudged the bag across the floor with her foot into his new route. Matt stopped and tipped his head. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re following me around.”

“No, I’m not.”

Matt raised his eyebrows, but continued on his path. When he reached the bag, he gave it a sharp kick. It wasn’t convincing enough to interpret it as an innocent trip, but there wasn’t enough reasonable doubt that it wasn’t an accident. The contents of Kirsten’s bag scattered across the floor in a display that seemed to defy physics. With one kick Matt had managed to disperse every item: paper, lipstick, wallet, tampons, keys, swipe cards… everything now rolling away into various corners of the room.

“Oops,” Matt said casually, continuing towards the ring, unable to keep the smirk off his face. He pulled the towel from the ropes and wiped the back of his neck, while Kirsten scrambled to pick up her items.

“Bastard,” she hissed as she crawled under the ring to retrieve a lip gloss.

Matt gave a huff of amusement as slung his duffle over his shoulder. “I have to lock up, so if you could just hurry up…” Matt called.

Kirsten stormed out of the gym without a further word. As she reached the end of the block, she looked back at Matt, who was locking up. His shoulders were ever so slightly shaking. He was laughing. “Bastard”, she spat under her breath. He immediately turned in her direction and gave her a smile and a wave. She turned her back and hurried down the street.

Foggy hurriedly scrunched up the nearly empty packet of cheese balls as he heard Matt’s key in the lock. “Hey-hey, Matt. Good workout?”

“Foggy, I’ve told you not to eat those things in our apartment,” Matt replied.

“I know, I know. But I was celebrating.”

Matt rolled his eyes. “You’ll be celebrating with a heart attack if you’re not careful.” He dumped his duffle near the table and headed straight for the fridge. “Beer?”

“So cheese balls are not okay, but beer is?”

“Yes,” Matt said flatly.

Foggy shrugged. “Okay.”

Foggy’s easy answer surprised Matt. He chuckled and drew a couple of bottles from the fridge.

“So why beer? What happened at the gym?”

“Huh? Oh, nothing.” He reconsidered. “Actually, you’ll never guess…”

Foggy didn’t find the story quite as funny. “So, you have the ADA on your tail and your response is, well… this?” Foggy gestured at Matt, who was lounging across the armchair, beer in hand and a smug smile on his face.

Matt raised one eyebrow and said, “what’s she going to do?”

“I dunno. Charge you? Go after your friends and business partner?”

Matt sat forward and placed his beer on the table. “Foggy,” he said earnestly, “I will never let that happen. She can’t prove it. Who’s going to believe her anyway?”

Foggy rolled his eyes. “You’re an ass, you know that?”

Matt shrugged, the smug expression creeping back onto his face. He was more concerned than he liked to let on, but he buried those worries. Matt jumped up, keen to change the topic. “So, what are we having for dinner?”


	2. So much for calm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the wonderfully encouraging comments on the last chapter. I was a bit hesitant to begin another story in this series, partly because I thought readers might have moved on, but it appears not. Thank you for your kind words!

Foggy whistled as he and Matt strode into their office.

“You’re in a good mood,” Karen said, looking up from her work.

“I guess I am,” Foggy replied, coming to a halt. “I don’t want to jinx things, but I’m enjoying this rare period of calm.”

“You can’t say that out loud,” Matt called from his office.

“Also, Daisy can smell something under the floor.” Karen nodded towards the conference room where the dog was scratching at a patch of carpet. “That’s definitely not a good sign.”

Foggy pulled a face and called. “Hey Matt, Mr Bloodhound Nose Man… what’s under the floor of the conference room?”

There was an immediate crash as Matt’s laptop slipped out of his bag onto the table.

Karen looked at Foggy, “he’s right. You just jinxed us.”

Foggy ignored Karen’s provocation and dashed into Matt’s office. “You okay, Matt?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah.”

“It’s not like you-”

“I said I’m fine,” Matt said, his voice strained. “Stop hovering.”

“Hey Daisy,” Foggy called, causing Matt to cover his ears with a wince.

“I said I’m _fine_,” Matt repeated. “I just need… I need…” Matt furrowed his brow.

“I think you need to sit down,” Foggy said, recognising the signs of confusion that so often preceded Matt’s seizures. Foggy called Daisy’s name again, more firmly this time.

Daisy came trotting in, speeding up as she crossed the threshold into the office. She threw herself at Matt with a yelp and started scratching at his pants – her way of alerting Matt to an impending seizure.

“Not fine,” Foggy said firmly. He grabbed Matt’s arm, “come on quick, the couch.”

Matt seemed dazed as Foggy led him to the couch.

“Foggy,” he said quietly as they were half way to the office couch.

“Yeah, Matt?”

“Foggy,” Matt repeated, coming to a halt just a few feet from the couch. If he wanted to say anything more, he didn’t have the chance.

Foggy tried to catch Matt as he fell, but he merely managed to soften the impact. After the epilepsy diagnosis, Foggy had purchased a fluffy carpet for Matt’s office, which had proven many times over to be a worth investment. And so it did once again.

Karen looked over Foggy’s shoulder. “Can I do anything?”

“Not yet,” Foggy said, keeping one eye on his watch. As Matt stopped convulsing, Foggy said to Karen, “write down 52 seconds.”

“Yes boss.”

Once they’d managed to get a meaningful response from Matt (a mumbled ‘Fog’), they helped him onto the couch and left him to sleep through the post-seizure fatigue.

“Matt was right,” Karen said as they pulled Matt’s office door ajar.

“Huh?”

“You jinxed us,” Karen said with a smirk.

Foggy rolled his eyes. “Not you too,” he huffed. He scratched his head. “What was I doing?”

“Saying how calm everything was?”

“Well, it has been apart from the seizures. As horrible as they are for Matt, they’re kind of normal now. It’s been almost a year since the first one. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to them, but they’re part of his life, my life, your life… Besides, when I said calm, I meant no Fisk, no Mr Fear, no zombie girlfriends.... things are _relatively_ calm.”

That evening, Foggy decided to celebrate the first really warm Spring day by taking a beer up to the deck chairs he’d installed on the roof. Matt refused the beer, but joined Foggy all the same, although he fell asleep before Foggy had even consumed half his bottle. Matt’s snooze didn’t surprise Foggy – the seizure days were pretty much a write-off activity-wise. However, Foggy was disappointed to lose his drinking buddy on such a glorious evening. After finishing the bottle, Foggy snuck back downstairs to grab a second beer. He tripped over the top stair coming back up to the roof, waking Matt, who roused with a snort.

“Evening, sleeping beauty,” Foggy sang to which Matt answered with an indecipherable mumble.

Foggy held a bottle up. “Beer? I got two. No pressure – it just saves me the trip downstairs.”

Matt didn’t react to the offer. Instead, he tilted his head ever so slightly as he caught the sound of unusual activity on the stairwell.

“What is it?” Foggy had come to dread Matt’s alert face.

Matt waved at Foggy to shush, swinging his legs over the edge of the deck chair as if ready for action. Almost immediately there was a sharp rap at their front door.

Foggy whispered, “who is it?” It had to be someone Matt recognised to have such a reaction.

Matt pursed his lips, let out a deep breath, and said, “our persistent ADA.”

“Kirsten?”

Matt didn’t need to respond.

“Matt, we should answer it.”

“No, this harassment needs to stop.”

“Well, at least she’s coming to us, rather than going to the police – or Tower.”

“Shhhh,” Matt hissed. After about a minute’s intense silence, he gestured to Foggy with a hiss of, “give me the beer. Sit. Look normal.”

“Why?”

Foggy got his answer. The public access door to the roof groaned as it was shoved from the top of the stairs. Unlike Matt’s private access door, the one accessible to all residents was rarely used. With the wood swelling over winter, it was essentially sealed locked. There was a brief silence before it swung open with an almighty bang, and Kirsten tumbled through landing awkwardly on her stomach. She rolled over with a groan, rubbing her shoulder (which she’d essentially used as a battering ram).

Foggy scrambled to his feet to help Kirsten up. She shook off his help and stood up with a huff, brushing dust off her jacket.

“Evening,” Matt said with a smile, holding his bottle up as if toasting an honored guest.

Kirsten glared at Matt before looking around the rooftop. Since Foggy had moved in, the rooftop had been jazzed up with fairy lights, a portable umbrella and chairs. Daisy’s doggy grass spot in the corner even had a couple of potted geraniums around the edge. The rooftop looked well appreciated.

“Um, Kristen,” Foggy stuttered. He glanced at Matt, who had his peak smug face on. He turned back to the scowling Kirsten. “Kirsten, would you like a beer?”

For a moment, it seemed like Kirsten was going to refuse (with a few casual insults thrown in), but then she straightened and gave Foggy a smile. “That would be lovely, thank you.”

Foggy looked between Matt and Kirsten before dashing down the other rooftop access into their apartment.

In the subsequent silence, Matt continued to silently smile at Kirsten while patting the dog with one hand.

Kirsten took a few deep breaths and said, “do you come up here a lot?”

Matt shrugged. “Occasionally.”

“Is this how you leave your apartment unseen? You go via the roof?”

Matt took a swig of beer in lieu of an answer.

“I thought maybe you hid your horned costume somewhere else, but exiting via the roof is genius.” She whispered, “is it somewhere downstairs? The back of your cupboard perhaps, or under the floorboards?” She took a step closer and added in a more dangerous tone, “if I got a warrant, would the police find the evidence they need to charge you for – oh let’s see… assault, resisting arrest, kidnapping, refusing to comply with police orders, break and enter, attempted-”

Matt snapped, “you can stop now. I get the point.”

“Do you? Or are you going to keep denying it?” She pulled a receipt from her coat pocket, scrunched it into a ball and threw it at Matt. He didn’t flinch as the ball bounced off his forehead and into his lap. Daisy immediately grabbed it and ran off to one corner to shred the novel object.

Matt said smoothly, “did that have a purpose?”

They were interrupted by Foggy clearing his throat as he returned to the roof, another beer in hand. He handed Kirsten the bottle and said, “so, is this a social visit?”

Kirsten looked at Matt, whose smug smile had turned into more of a grimace. “Yeah, why not.” Two could play this game, she decided.

Foggy raised his eyebrows, but pulled an extra seat over to their deckchairs just the same. He gestured at the chairs, “please, sit.”

Foggy tapped his fingers along the side of the bottle as the three of them sat in awkward silence.

“Daisy’s looking well.”

Matt huffed in amusement at the U-turn in conversation. Foggy quickly replied, “she’s lost quite a lot of fur in the last month – you know, Spring.”

“I’m going to use the fur to knit her a coat for next winter,” Matt deadpanned. Foggy couldn’t help smiling at Kirsten’s puzzled expression.

“M-Matt’s a great knitter,” Foggy explained.

Matt gave a shrug of false modesty. “I try.”

“Maybe I should commission a jumper of my own,” Kirsten said.

“It might be misconstrued as a bribe,” Matt said smoothly.

“Hardly,” Kirsten muttered into her bottle.

Desperate to stay on a neutral topic, Foggy said, “do you knit, Kirsten?” Then remembered Kirsten’s jumper request and added, “or-or anything else. Hobbies.”

“Yes, what does an assistant DA do with her time… other than harassing me, that is,” Matt said.

“If you just told me the truth, maybe I wouldn’t still be harassing you,” Kirsten replied.

“So you admit it, you’re harassing a fellow member of the bar – a member who is often your opposing counsel.”

“Stop playing games, Matt,” Kirsten snapped, before easing up and adding, “look, I’m not going to bring charges against you-”

Matt raised his eyebrows over his glasses.

Kirsten corrected, “well, not right now.”

Matt’s face darkened.

“I mean – I’m not going to reveal your secret, Matt. I just want to – I just want – I have questions, that’s all.”

“And I’m afraid I don’t have the answers you’re looking for.” Matt stood up and brushed the creases out of his untucked business shirt. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to start cooking dinner. Stay if you’d like.”

Kirsten looked like she was going to call his bluff and stay, just to spite him. But she put her half-drunk beer on the table. “No, I have plans.”

A lie, Matt detected. But that wasn’t terribly surprising.

Kirsten looked with interest over at Matt and Foggy’s apartment access, but Foggy pointedly took a step towards the public stairs. “Well… bye,” Foggy said, ushering Kirsten through the public access door.

As soon as she was gone, Foggy said, “well, we’re definitely going to have to start locking our roof access door now. And you might want to hide-”

“Foggy,” Matt hissed.

“What? Is she listening?”

“No, I’m just saying be careful.”

Foggy looked curiously at the area where they’d just been seated.

“She didn’t bug our roof, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Matt said.

Foggy sighed. “Nevertheless, don’t keep goading her.”

“I’m not-”

“Or flirting with her.”

“Foggy!”

“What? Don’t deny it. You have the hots for her, and it’s obviously mutual. But that doesn’t mean that she won’t throw you under a bus if she has the chance. If you think about it, identifying Daredevil would be a fast-track to the top. She’d have Tower’s job in no time.”

Matt chuckled. “You worry too much, Foggy.” He beckoned, “come on, let’s go inside. It’s getting cold.”

“And you’re hungry,” Foggy added.

“Nah, I’m going to bed,” Matt said.

“Oh.” Foggy felt a bit stupid for falling for Matt’s dinner line too, even though he knew that Matt’s appetite always diminished on the days he seized. Foggy gathered himself and said, “what about toast? I know you’re tired, but you need to eat something. You’re getting scrawny again.”

Matt waved Foggy off, heading straight down the stairs to his bedroom.

As Foggy wandered into the kitchen to make his dinner for one (a grilled cheese sandwich), he muttered to himself, “so much for calm”.


	3. Thank you

Foggy woke Matt up with a whispered, “Matt, buddy.”

Matt gave a grunt of recognition, but didn’t move.

“It's nearly 8am. Do you want to come into work?” Foggy saw the cringe on Matt’s face and added, “no pressure. You can use your day-after-seizure-get-out-of-work-free card if you want.”

Matt rolled onto his back and brushed the hair away from his face. “No, I’ll come.” He cringed again as a muscle in his back gave an angry pulse of pain – another consequence of the previous day’s seizure.

“You could take the morning off. We don’t have any client meetings this morning. You could sleep in and join us later.”

Matt gave a grunt of agreement. “A plan,” he croaked, relaxing into his pillow.

Foggy was already showered and besuited, having rightly predicting Matt would be fatigued enough to accept the sleep-in offer. He said in a low voice, “give me a call if you need anything or if Daisy alerts you to a seizure. Otherwise, I’ll see you this afternoon.”

Matt gave another grunt, already well on his way back to sleep. Daisy sighed and snuggled back into Matt’s blankets, her head resting on Matt’s legs so that she could keep watch.

Matt slapped his ringing phone for the second time. Whoever was ringing from a private number could leave a message. When it rang a third time, however, he begrudgingly answered.

“Is this Matthew Murdock?” the voice on the other end said.

“Yes, why?”

“It’s Tim Walters from the Bulletin. I wanted to ask you about the allegations that-”

“No comment,” Matt snapped into the phone. He’d had calls from newspapers all week about the controversial Akman case and he was sick of it. They could read the press release for goodness sake.

“But Mr Murdock, you-”

“I said no comment. Goodbye,” Matt said firmly, hanging up before the reporter could get a word in. He threw the phone onto the other side of the bed and pulled the blankets over his head once more.

Karen jumped up as soon as Foggy walked through the door. “No Matt?”

“Good morning to you too, Karen,” Foggy said facetiously. “And no, Matt’s taking the morning off. Yesterday’s seizure has him beat.”

Karen glanced at the floor as she always did when she was about to break unwelcome news. “Um, so you haven’t heard?”

“Heard what?”

“The news. Um, it’s about Matt... and Daredevil.”

“What?”

Karen twisted the screen of her computer around until it faced Foggy. “The Bulletin. It’s claiming Matt’s Daredevil.”

“Wha-how-it can’t.”

“Well, apparently it just did. Some guy called Tim Walters says he’s got a reliable source who can prove Matt is Daredevil.”

“Who?! Who’s the source?”

“It doesn’t say. It just says that they have evidence that can back up the claims.”

“Bullshit.” Foggy pulled out his phone and dialed Matt’s number. It rang out. “Fuck,” Foggy said, dialing again. “Pick up, Matt, dammit!”

On the third ring, Matt answered with a confused, “Foggy?”

“She went to the newspapers, Matt. She sold you out.”

Matt struggled upright. “Huh? What are you talking about?”

“Kirsten, she must have gone to the Bulletin with the news of your identity. Some chump called…” Foggy looked to Karen’s screen for the byline, “Tim Walters has written the, and I quote, ‘expose of the year’. He also claims you told him no comment.”

“Tim…” Matt swallowed. “Huh.”

“You know him?”

“Uh, he called, but I told him no comment because I thought it was about Akman. He never said…” Matt kicked away the blankets, swaying a little as he stood up. “Oof,” he said.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just… the usual.”

“I’m coming home.”

“Foggy, you don’t have to-”

“I do. We have to come up with a game plan, Matt.”

“No one’s going to believe it-”

“And yet it’s printed in the Bulletin.”

“I’ll sue.”

Foggy let out a snort of disbelief. “Don’t go anywhere. I’m coming home.”

Matt dropped back onto the bed and put his head in his hands. Daisy gave him a lick of condolence, but he nudged her away. He had to think. He knew he’d been goading Kirsten (as Foggy put it), but he never thought she’d go to the papers.

His thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. “Great,” Matt moaned out loud as he recognized the heartbeat. He considered pretending to be home, but after consideration, he shrugged on his hoodie and made his way to the front door.

“It wasn’t me,” Kirsten said as a greeting.

Matt just raised his eyebrows.

“It wasn’t me who went to the Bulletin,” Kirsten clarified.

Matt didn’t know how to respond. He was very aware that his glasses were sitting on the kitchen bench, far away from arm’s reach. He could feel her gaze upon his face and he tipped his head down, deeply uncomfortable.

Kirsten edged forward a little, clearly wanting to enter the apartment, but Matt stepped sideways, blocking the interior from view. He wasn’t about to let her sniff around in his home – not after last night’s comments about the hidden Daredevil suit.

Matt said smoothly, “who did you tell?”

“No one.”

Matt did his best to keep his face emotionless while he tried to make sense of the situation. His thought processes were always slow the day after a seizure, but even still, he didn’t think this would make sense on a regular day. Kirsten wasn’t telling a lie as far as he could tell. But if it wasn’t her, then…

“Well, someone’s gone to the press, even though the claim is clearly ridiculous,” Matt said, with a forced chuckle.

Kirsten crossed her arms. “So you’re still denying it.”

Matt smiled, “I’m blind. How can I be Daredevil?”

“I’d like to know that too. How do you do it?”

“I have to go,” Matt said, wiping the smile off his face.

“You don’t look like you were going anywhere,” Kirsten said, looking at his pajamas pants, fuzzy chin and rumpled hair.

“I’m recovering from a seizure – also not something compatible with Daredevil.”

The mention of the seizure was enough to disarm Kirsten. “Oh, I’m sorry. I-I hope you feel better.”

Matt went to shut the door, but Kirsten stuck her foot out. Through the crack in the door, she said in a genuinely reconciliatory tone, “Matt, I want to help. Let me. Uh, call me when you’re ready.” Then she removed her foot and took off down the stairs with haste.

When Foggy arrived he immediately launched into a frantic monologue. Matt allowed Foggy’s rant to continue for a minute before he interrupted with, “it wasn’t Kirsten.”

“She-” Foggy spluttered, “hang on, what?”

“It wasn’t Kirsten who spoke to the Bulletin.”

“Matt, I know you think your flirting somehow protects you from that woman, but-”

“She told me,” Matt said, rubbing his knees. He was sitting cross legged in the arm chair, still dressed in his pajamas, but now incredibly wired despite the post-seizure fatigue.

“Huh?”

Matt gave an irritated sigh. “She was here – 10 minutes ago. She came to tell me it wasn’t her.”

“So who was it?”

Matt shrugged. “Mr Fear? Maybe he gave up on the whole evil genius routine and decided to make a deal in exchange for Daredevil’s identity.”

Foggy rolled his eyes. “Or, maybe your lie detector’s off, y’know ‘cause of the seizure.”

“It’s not,” Matt said softly.

“How are you so calm?”

“Foggy, it’s preposterous. There’s no way anyone will believe it. I’ll sue for defamation.”

“You’ll what?!”

“Sue the Bulletin.”

“Matt, you’re crazy. Why would you attract attention like that?”

Matt shrugged. “Fine. I’ll leave it. See how it plays out.”

“How many times have we discussed this, Matt. Hope is not a plan.” Foggy started pacing back and forwards across the room, muttering to himself. “All our cases are going to come under scrutiny. Your injuries, the evidence passed on by Daredevil…”

“Foggy,” Matt pleaded.

“My parents! What will they think,” Foggy continued. “They think you’re the most pure and docile creature to walk this earth.”

“Foggy, stop!”

Foggy stopped dead in the middle of the room. “I have to call my parents.”

“Foggy, you don’t have to do anything,” Matt said firmly. “This will die down once people realize how absurd the claim is. Tomorrow there will be another headline and this will be forgotten.”

But Foggy was already calling his parents. Matt sighed and wandered off to the shower. Now that the shock had worn off, he registered how sweaty and stinky he was. Anxiety sweat, he realized. Despite his words to Foggy, Matt was quietly shitting himself.

As he waited for the hot water to run, Matt went through the possible traitors in his head. Foggy, Karen and Father Lantom were ruled out. It went without question.

Danny might have accidently said something to someone, but he would have told Matt if that was the case. Danny might have his faults, but he was truthful, Matt knew that much.

He didn’t know Jessica well, but she didn’t seem at all interested in his abilities – just the case she was working on at any given time. She’d disappeared as soon as Mr Fear’s plot had been foiled.

Claire and Luke weren’t likely to spill either. Claire would be in as much trouble as Matt would, given how close they were. At the hospital, it was no longer a secret that Claire and Matt were friends and that she tended to Matt’s injuries outside work – although most people thought those injuries were related to his seizures.

Matt also thought of his blind mentee, Julia Carpenter, who had extraordinary abilities of her own. He assumed Julia didn’t know he was Daredevil, but she did know about his abilities, and to a lesser extent, so did her mother, Elizabeth. As an overenthusiastic child, Julia might have accidentally let something slip. But then who would believe a child? Foggy said the article claimed there was hard evidence. What in earth could it be?

“Mom says hi,” Foggy called to Matt as he exited the shower.

Matt bit his lip. Foggy’s parents had taken him under their wing from that first visit when Foggy had dragged Matt home for Christmas. They’d always treated him with such care and love. He didn’t want them to see him any other way.

Foggy sensed Matt’s hesitancy. “Do you want to know what mom said?”

“We should go to the office,” Matt said, rifling through his cupboard for an appropriate shirt.

“Now? But we have to make a plan. What if the cops show up?”

“They won’t.”

“You can’t be sure of that, Matt.”

Matt gave a frustrated huff and marched into the living room, his wet towel still around his waist. “Foggy, I don’t know what’s going to happen. But the best thing I can do right now is carry on with my life as if that article doesn’t exist.”

“What about me? What about Karen? It affects us too.”

“I know. And I’m sorry for dragging you into this, but I don’t have the answers you’re looking for.” Matt ran his fingers through his wet hair and said more softly, “I just don’t.”

“Okay, can we at least hide your suit?”

Matt sighed. “Leave it to me.”

As they exited the apartment, their neighbor Fran stuck her head out. “I just want to say thank you,” she said.

Foggy and Matt stopped in their tracks. Fran had never said anything complimentary to them. In fact, the only time she ever spoke to them was to complain about noise or the leaking roof or the sound of Daisy’s claws on the internal stairs.

“Uh,” Foggy started.

“Thank you for protecting Hell’s Kitchen,” she clarified.

Matt stuttered, “oh, uh, I don’t-”

“Have a good day,” she said, shutting the door.

“That was weird,” Foggy said, shaking his head in a cartoon-like fashion.

“Mmm…”

They’d barely made it a block before Mauro ran out of the Italian deli. “Mr Murdock! Mr Murdock!”

Matt and Foggy turned around.

“Mr- uh, I want to thank you. You saved my shop.” The owner grasped Matt’s hand. “Thank you so much.”

“Uh, I think you’ve made a mistake.”

“I know. I know. You can’t admit it,” the owner laughed. “But thank you just the same.”

Matt cleared his throat. “Uh, we have to-” he waved in the general direction of the office.

“Yes of course, you have things to do. People to save.”

“That’s not…” Matt stopped as Foggy tugged him forward.

“Matt,” Foggy whispered. “I think we might have an entirely different problem on our hands.”

On the next block, they were stopped again, this time by a young woman who’d been rescued by Daredevil from a sexual predator. The man from Matt’s dry cleaners also leapt out at them as they walked past, and then another elderly man who’d witnessed Daredevil run down a mugger. Each time, Matt stuttered out an excuse. But to his fans, it didn’t seem to matter that Matt denied that he was Daredevil.

“Thank god you’re here,” Karen said as they entered the office.

Matt stood there in the middle of the room, too shocked to say anything.

“You’ll never guess what just happened,” Foggy said to Karen.

Karen put her hands on her hips. “You got a dozen calls from people ringing up to thank Matt?”

“Uh, no, but close,” Foggy said. “It was like walking down the street with a celebrity.”

Foggy and Karen both looked at Matt, who was trying not to smile.

“You can’t be happy about this, Matt,” Foggy said with a groan of exasperation.

Matt gave a small shrug. “I don’t do it for the thanks.”

Foggy glanced towards the door.

“The police aren’t coming,” Matt said as if reading Foggy’s mind.

“You can’t know that, Matt. What if-”

“You can’t live your life worrying about what ifs.” Matt tapped his foot. “When’s this client meeting?”

Karen jumped into action, “yes, a Mr Lee – the rental contract.”

“Good,” Matt said. “I’ll be in my office.” And like that, the conversation was over.

Mr Lee’s contract dispute was easily handled. Thing were going fine until he went to leave. He paused at the door, hesitated, then said, “Mr Murdock, if you don’t mind me asking, are you really blind?”

Matt gave him a fake smile and said, “we’ll email you those documents this afternoon.”

Mr Lee looked embarrassed. “Yes, of course. Sorry.”

“Prick,” Karen said, after the door was closed.

Matt didn’t blink. He busied himself in the kitchen, making a pot of tea.

“You’ll get more of that,” Karen said.

“I know,” Matt said in a matter-of-fact way.

“What are you-”

“Karen, leave it,” Matt snapped.

Karen put up her hands in surrender. “Fine, I won’t say another word.”

If Matt and Foggy thought the walk to work was bad, the walk home was even worse. Matt deflected another five lots of thanks before mumbling something about needing his hoodie.

“That’s your strategy? To hide?”

“That, or take the route via the rooftops,” Matt said.

“No,” Foggy laughed before realizing Matt was serious. “Matt, _no_.”

Matt ground to a halt. “Shit.”

Foggy looked around for the source of Matt’s alarm before spotting Detective Mahoney coming out of a bodega. “Quick, hide. Shit,” Foggy stuttered, realizing they’d been spotted.

“Hi Brett,” Foggy said, trying his best to be casual. It didn’t work.

“You two are looking as shifty as hell.” Brett snorted. “Matt, are you really-”

“Brett-” Foggy started.

“-Catholic?” Brett finished. Foggy let out a sigh of relief.

“As Catholic as I am blind,” Matt said with a smirk.

“And an ass,” Foggy muttered.

“You’re still a pain in _my_ ass,” Brett added quickly, “but I just thought I’d say thanks. I mean, I don’t agree with your methods, but thanks for Fisk, and you know.” Brett held out his hand, hesitated, then dropped it again, not quite sure whether Matt could in fact see his hand or not.

“You mean thanks for your help as lawyers, don’t you,” Foggy said with a meaningful look at Brett.

“Of course,” Brett said, which resulted in a broad smile from Matt.

“Uh, anyway. We should get going,” Foggy said, grabbing Matt’s arm and pulling him away. Matt didn’t pretend to be surprised. He simply nodded at Brett and followed Foggy down the street.

“Shit, can you believe it? If Brett’s _thanking _you, then maybe you’re not about to go to jail after all.”

“Told you. You worry too much.”

Foggy gave an explosive sound of disbelief and raked his fingers through his hair. “And stop smirking,” Foggy snapped. “You’ve had that grin on your face all afternoon.”

Matt tried to rearrange his face, but he couldn’t help smiling. He put out his hands in what he hoped was a conciliatory gesture. “I’ll cook you dinner. Anything you like.”

“That’s not going to fix things.”

“It might. Just a little bit. Please, Foggy, let me do this… for you.”

“Fine,” Foggy snapped. He threw himself onto the couch and started searching for articles on Daredevil on his phone. “Ergh, the internet is saying all sorts of crazy things,” Foggy called to Matt.

Matt raised his eyebrows.

“Do you want to know? You don’t want to know,” Foggy mumbled. They weren’t all complimentary. As cross as Foggy was at Matt, he still felt somewhat protective of his friend. If Matt wanted to read the online forums and clickbait articles then he could, but Foggy didn’t want to be the one to share some of the horrible things written about Matt.


	4. The Bulletin

Matt lay in bed listening to Foggy swipe lazily at his phone. “Go to bed, go to bed,” he silently urged.

Daisy gave an impatient sigh, nudging her wet snout against Matt’s hand. Matt had stopped questioning how Daisy could sense Matt’s moods, whether it be impatience, anxiety, or anger. In any case, Daisy knew Matt was waiting for something and was wide awake in anticipation. Matt put a calming hand on her head. “Not yet,” he murmured to the small dog.

Eventually Foggy dropped his phone and rolled over with a grunt. To be safe, Matt waited for Foggy’s soft snores to begin before shimmying out of bed, already dressed in his black armored jeans and hoodie. Daisy leapt into his hoodie pocket before Matt could even give the order.

Grabbing Melvin’s special Daredevil cane from his drawer, Matt then crept up the stairs to the roof. He was still a little fuzzy due to the post-seizure effects and the tip of his boot caught on the edge of the stairs. Foggy immediately stopped snoring and gave a small sound of drowsy confusion. Matt barely dared to breathe. He stood there on one foot, waiting, praying for Foggy to go back to sleep. Half a minute later, Foggy rolled onto his side and the snores recommenced.

It was only when they’d reached the open roof that Matt finally took a proper breath. He was getting better at sharing his plans with Foggy, but there was no way Foggy would understand tonight’s mission.

Matt rolled his shoulders then flicked his cane to the adjacent building, listening to the whir of cabling as the cane extended and looped over the fire escape. He leapt off the roof, enjoying the rush of air against his cheeks as he swung to the ground. Yes, this was living.

Matt kept to the shadows as he walked south towards his target. It took longer than he imagined but eventually he found himself standing in the alleyway adjacent to The Bulletin. He’d been in the building only once before, and couldn’t remember it being nearly as fortified as it was now. The ground floor entrances were impenetrable.

After circling the building twice, Matt noticed the small stream of air escaping a slightly ajar sixth floor window. Matt pulled himself up the adjacent drainpipe, hand over hand. Paint dust accumulated on his palms, providing greater grip as he ascended. As he reached the sixth floor, he considered the couple of feet between the window and the pipe. He paused for a moment then swung his leg towards the window, just managing to catch the tip of his boot in the crack so that it slid open with a groan. Matt took a deep breath and leapt towards the void, only _just_ managing to reach the window. He could feel his heart beating overtime as he pulled himself up and through the frame. Once upon a time, that maneuver would have been simple, but he was out of practice. He didn’t want to dwell on just how close he’d come to falling 6 stories.

Now inside, Matt took a moment to assess the room. It was open plan with desks laid out at odd angles throughout the room. He’d not considered exactly how he’d find Tim Walter’s work desk, nor what he was looking for. All he knew was that he left home with the knowledge he had to do _something_.

Matt headed for the buzzing overhead fluoro lights that lined the central hallway. Soft voices could be heard from the other side of the floor, discussing changes to tax laws. He ran his fingers over the plaque attached to a closed door. “Janitor’s cupboard,” it read.

He gave a small sigh. This really was a folly of an outing.

Just as he was about to give up, the elevator opened. A gangly man walked out, tapping at his phone as he walked. Matt flattened himself against the wall, listening intently. The phone rang, “this is Tim Walters”, the man answered. Matt could barely believe his luck. He followed Tim at a distance. As the reporter entered his tiny shared office, Matt ducked into the adjacent room. The flimsy walls weren’t any match for Matt's senses, even though his seizure-brain meant that they were still slightly compromised.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll pick it up tomorrow, thanks,” was the only thing Matt overheard before Tim put the phone down. For an hour, Matt waited for something to happen, eventually sitting on the floor to wait him out. He briefly toyed with the idea of confronting Tim directly. A year ago, it probably would have been his unthinking reaction. But he’d spent all day telling Foggy that it would just blow over, and confronting the journalist would be the best way of making sure that didn’t happen. No, he’d wait.

Matt could feel his eyes starting to droop, even as the journalist continued to tap at his laptop. He flicked the delicate skin inside his wrist, trying to jolt his body into staying awake. Daisy shifted in his hoodie pocket. She’d long fallen asleep in her warm nest, but now she was awake and desperately wanted to get out. Matt pressed a hand gently against her head. “Stay,” he whispered.

After what seemed like an eternity, Tim finally got up and headed for the bathroom down the hall. Silent as a shadow, Matt slipped into the office. Matt had repeatedly told Foggy and Karen that he thought his senses were better than sight - and that was true for the most part - but he’d give anything to be able to quickly scan the desk and laptop for text-based information.

He ran his fingers over the top leaf of a wad of post-it notes, noting the residual impressions of a single phone number. He pocketed the top post-it note, and then turned to the adjacent pile of paper. He held his phone over the piles, listening intently as the phone dictated the text at rabbit pace. The documents were merely print outs on a community boycott of a chainstore being built next to a family-run bodega. Nope.

Matt silenced his phone when he heard the sound of a toilet flushing, silently cursing as he was forced to exit prematurely. As Tim settled back at his desk, Matt decided to call it a night. He knew where Tim’s office was. He had a phone number. It was a good start.

Foggy was still lightly snoring when Matt returned to their apartment. Placing the post-it note on his bedside table like a prize, Matt wriggled out of his fortified pants and hoodie and fell straight to sleep. He’d deal with the number in the morning.

Matt was making coffee when Foggy awoke.

“Dude, what’s with the early start? You’re never up before me,” Foggy said as he wandered towards the smell.

Matt wasn’t about to tell Foggy that he was awake in anticipation. He woke up early, excited about the mystery phone number and potentially the key to the identity of his secret-spiller. He was waiting until the polite time of 9am to call, but in the meantime, there was no way he could sleep - or even stay in bed.

Matt held out a mug of freshly made coffee. Foggy hesitated, before saying in a puzzled voice, “Matt, what’s on your hands?”

Matt frowned. “What? Nothing.”

“Your hands are orange.”

Matt thought back to the aging drainpipe he’d scaled the night before. Could the paint dust leave a stain? Matt wished he had a quick explanation for his friend, but he hadn’t had his caffeine yet. His brain was yet to act quickly. Instead, he wiped his hands on his boxers.

“Yeah, that’s not working,” Foggy said, giving him a look of suspicion. He held out one hand. “Let me see.”

Matt shook his head, turning instead to the sink and giving his hands a vigorous wash with the dishwashing detergent. He'd regret it later when the stench of detergent lingered on his skin, but he didn’t want to encourage any more questions.

Foggy wasn’t finished yet though. “What have you touched this morning?”

“Just-just coffee,” Matt said. “Is there something on the coffee machine?”

“No, nothing,” Foggy said.

Matt breathed a sigh of relief. He didn’t think he’d left dusty finger prints on the documents in Tim’s office, but he also didn’t realize he’d stained his fingers either. Maybe last night’s outing wasn’t the success he’d thought it to be.

“Did you go out-”

Thinking quick, Matt interrupted with, “I did look for something in the first aid kit. There could be a spill.”

Foggy pulled the kit off the shelf. “Nope, no spill.”

“Oh, not that one. I have another.... in my bedroom,” Matt lied.

“Oh... I didn’t know.”

Matt gave a casual shrug. Crisis averted.

“I’ll have a look,” Foggy offered, putting down his mug.

“No, no it’s okay. I’ll do it later.”

“But if you didn’t notice the orange spill then, you may not be able to identify it now.”

“Foggy, leave it,” Matt snapped. “Let me drink my coffee.”

Foggy rolled his eyes, but he wasn’t finished. “What’s wrong?”

“Huh?”

“What were you looking for in the first aid kit?”

“Oh, uh, just some Aspirin.”

It must have passed the Foggy test because his tone of suspicion turned to one of concern. “Are you feeling better?”

Matt gave him a small smile. “Yeah, thanks.”

“Good, that’s good.” Foggy paused for a moment then said, “because we’ve got a big day. If today is anything like yesterday, we’ll probably have to leave early. It took us an extra 20 minutes to walk to the office yesterday thanks to your new rockstar status.”

Matt raised his eyebrows, but didn’t otherwise respond. He leaned against the bench, sipping on the still-too-hot black coffee, dwelling on the strange situation he’d found himself in. Two hours, he thought. Two hours until 9am.

By 8am, Matt had waited long enough. Foggy was brushing his teeth ahead of their walk to the office, so Matt ducked up to the roof. He tapped his foot as the phone rang once, twice, three times. Finally they picked up: “_Angie’s cakes_,” a jolly voice sang. “_What can I do for you_?”

Matt opened his mouth then closed it again. He wasn’t expecting a cake shop. Then again, Fisk had made many innocent-sounding businesses complicit in his crimes, so this bakery could well have been the messenger.

“_Hello?”_ the voice prompted.

“Oh, hello. It’s Tim... Tim Walters,” Matt said, trying to sound confident.

“_Oh yes. Mr Walters, we have your cake. What time will you pick it up?_”

“My cake-” Matt said under his breath, but it was loud enough for the woman on the other end of the line to hear.

“_Yes, the one for your grandmother, for her 90th. That is your order, isn’t it?_”

“Uh, yes, yes, thank you.”

“_So, your pick up time?_”

Matt improvised, “Uh, what time are you open until?”

“_4.30_”.

“Oh, um, can I get back to you? I-I have to look up my diary.”

“_Sure, hun. We can arrange delivery if you want too._”

“Thank you, I’ll keep that in mind,” Matt said. “Thanks, bye.” He hung up before he could incriminate himself.

Matt kicked the low wall in anger. There were no words to describe Matt’s disappointment. A cake shop of all things. His grandmother! How dare Tim Walters even have a grandmother!

Matt reached for the empty beer bottle on the rooftop table with the intention of throwing it in one of his usual rages, but the sound of Daisy skittering up the stairs short-circuited his rage. He breathed out through narrowed lips just as Foggy yelled up the stairs, “come on, Matt. If we don’t leave now, we’ll never get past all your fans.”


	5. Rumblings

Contrary to Foggy’s expectations, the walk to work was quieter than the day before. It seemed that Matt was right – New Yorkers moved on. The day was entirely uneventful in fact. Forms were filled, documents reviewed, the photocopier broke down again, and Matt and Foggy revised a plan for an ongoing case. They also had a few new clients turning up for help, but if it was due to the Bulletin article, it wasn’t vocalized.

However, the following day - two days after the article was published - something happened that suggested the issue hadn’t quite gone away just yet. Matt turned up to the courthouse alone to defend Mr Lee’s rental dispute in front of Judge Morris. It was a short and simple case, and one that Matt could more than handle alone.

As Matt threaded his briefcase through the security scanner at the courthouse entrance, he started to hear whispers from the people around him.

“Is that him? Daredevil?”

“Yeah, blind attorney. Has to be.”

“I heard that he wasn’t really blind.”

“Why would you go to that much trouble just to disguise your identity though?”

“It’s bullshit. Just the Bulletin making stuff up so they don’t have to do real reporting.”

“Fake news.”

“He’s too skinny to be Daredevil. Daredevil’s ripped.”

“You should ask him.”

“No, I can’t ask him. What if he’s really Daredevil? He might attack me in my sleep.”

Matt gave a huff of amusement at the last comment.

There was a sharp intake of breath from across the hall, followed by a hissed, “shit, do you think he heard me?”

“Don’t be silly. _I_ could barely hear you. He’s all the way across the room.”

“Still…”

Matt headed straight for the bathroom, locking himself in a stall and sitting on the closed lid of the toilet. He’d been relatively ignorant to the community’s gossip until now, but in the courthouse where he was a regular and known figure, he realized that perhaps the issue hadn’t gone away… perhaps it _wouldn’t_ go away.

The feeling was further confirmed when the realtor’s lawyer made a snide comment half way through Matt’s defense of Mr Lee.

“And you’d know all about breaking laws, wouldn’t you, Mr Murdock,” the opposing attorney quipped, earning a stern reprimand from the judge.

Matt stumbled. “Uh, as I was saying…”

The judge ended up ruling in Mr Lee’s favor on the rental dispute, but Matt wasn’t about to celebrate. Whether or not people believed the article, he’d not considered the claim might be used against him in court. It wasn’t professional or ethical, but he knew full well that lawyers didn’t have the best reputation at times, and for good reason.

“Hey, how did it go,” Foggy said as Matt returned to the office.

“Fine. We won,” Matt said dismissively. He bent down to greet Daisy, who was doing spins of joy at Matt’s return.

Karen and Foggy exchanged looks. They knew Matt’s body language too well. Karen said delicately, “Matt, did something happen?”

“Nothing. It’s as I said,” Matt snapped.

Karen and Foggy exchanged looks again. Neither one decided to push it though, not yet at least.

Three days after the article was published, Matt was visited by Kirsten McDuffie again – this time at his office.

“I thought you weren’t harassing me,” Matt quipped.

“I quit my position at the DA,” Kirsten said in response.

“You – huh?”

“Can we speak privately,” Kirsten whispered.

Matt was about to say no, but he could hear Kirsten’s heart beating faster than normal. She was nervous and he wanted to hear why. He started towards his office and beckoned her to follow.

“Matt, you have a 3pm appointment,” Karen called. “It’s 2.45”

Matt gave her a thumbs up and closed the door behind him and Kirsten.

“Have a seat,” he said formally, trailing his hand along the side of the desk until he got to his own chair.

They sat there in awkward silence for a few seconds until Matt cleared his throat and said, “I’m assuming you want me to ask why you resigned.”

“It was because of you,” Kirsten said bluntly.

Matt clasped his hands and rested them lightly on the desk. “Me?” he said sweetly, a smile on his face.

“Ergh, don’t get your hopes up,” she snapped. “The DA wanted me to investigate Daredevil following the recent article and subsequent rumors.”

“Rumors?”

“Well, even those inclined to dismiss the claim have started to look back at recent events. The gaps in Daredevil’s activity coincide with your hospitalizations, for instance. Oh and there’s the fact that Daredevil mysteriously seems to uncover material that benefits your cases.”

“Coincidences,” Matt said with a wave of his hand.

“Dismiss it at your peril,” Kirsten warned.

“Back to your, er, investigation.”

“I didn’t start the investigation. I told the DA that it would be a public relations nightmare if they charged Daredevil and I wouldn’t be a part.”

“That’s… very political of you,” Matt said. “But if you’re looking for a thanks-”

“That’s not why I’m here. You can thank me by being less of a cocky jerk.”

Matt leaned back in his chair. He drummed his fingers along the arms of his chair, trying to buy time as he thought up his next move.

Eventually he sat up straight. “Do you want a job?”

“No – no, that’s not what-”

“But you just said you quit.”

“Yes, but I can’t – I can’t work here.”

“Why not? After the debacle that was our recent paralegal, we’ve been a little nervous about hiring another employee, but we’re swamped with work. We could do with another lawyer.” He nodded, as if the deal was already done.

Before Kirsten could speak, Matt leapt up and said, “I’ll ask Foggy what he thinks. He hates it when I make unilateral decisions. Hmm, yes, he’d like to know.”

Kirsten could hear a whispered conversation from the other side of the office, then a louder, “what the hell, Matt?”

“Foggy, Foggy, Foggy… just hear me out,” Matt said, before dropping his voice to a whisper inaudible to Kirsten.

A few minutes later, Foggy appeared in the room, with Matt closely behind. Matt’s face was glowing red and the smirk that had been almost permanently installed on his face of late, was replaced with an expression of contrition.

“I’m so sorry, Kirsten. As the Nelson in Nelson & Murdock, I’ve become aware that a job offer was made without my knowledge.”

Matt’s face was titled in the direction of his own empty chair, rather than Foggy and Kirsten. His attempt at a neutral facial expression was not quite working.

“Matt,” Foggy snapped, “could you help me out here.”

“Yes, you see I thought we could do with another staff member now that Kirsten is out of a job,” Matt said in a forced casual tone.

“So you’ve said,” Foggy remarked. “You know what I want, Matt, don’t play games.”

Matt gave Kirsten a small apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, Kirsten, the offer was made in error.”

Kirsten shook her head in amused disbelief. “I had no intention of accepting it anyway,” she said. “Look, I should go. I need to update my Linkedin page.”

Both men stood aside as Kirsten clumsily gathered up her things and rushed out of the office.

Almost immediately, Matt grabbed Foggy’s arm. “It was a lie,” he whispered.

“What was? Was it a trick? Is it the DA trying to bug our office?”

“No, no, nothing like that. She was lying about not intending to accept the job.”

“So?”

“Please, Foggy?”

“It’s a _bad idea_, Matt.”

“But you always say keep your friends close and your enemies closer,” Matt argued.

“Sure, but judging from what you just said she did, she’s not the enemy.”

“But she might be able to help.”

“Matt, she’s been harassing you for weeks about your identity. Do you really want to invite that into the office?”

“Yes,” Matt said without hesitation.

Foggy crossed his arms. After a long pause (which Matt fought not to interrupt), Foggy said, “fine. But we get her in on a trial basis. This could go badly. _Really _badly.”

“Thank you, Foggy. You won’t regret this,” Matt said.

“Argh, don’t say that. It’s almost as bad as the other one-”

“Well it’s true, what’s the worst that could-”

“No!”

“-happen.”

Foggy buried his head with a groan. “We’re screwed.”


	6. Friends on the force

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I spent the first half of the week quarantined for possible Coronavirus (still ergh), and then the rest of the week not quarantined but resting with regular ol' Joe Influenza A (still ergh but at least I'm not responsible for importing Coronavirus to my home country from Italy), so I figured I'd get back into this story. I feel a bit more confident about all the moving parts now. Hopefully I still have some readers!

“Daredevil caught on camera breaking into the office of Bulletin reporter...” Foggy read out loud. “This is why I don’t read the news until after breakfast,” Foggy muttered, pushing his toast away. He’d lost his appetite.

He called as loud as he could, “Maaaaaaaaaaatttttt”.

The shower still running, Matt ran out of the bathroom, holding a towel around his dripping body. He skidded to a halt. “Foggy, what’s wrong?” He jumped as Daisy licked his wet ankle.

Foggy fumed, “what’s wrong? Um, well, you breaking into the Bulletin is one of them.”

Matt brushed away the drip of shampoo bubbles that was just about to reach his left eyebrow. “I thought something terrible had happened,” he panted.

Foggy rolled his eyes. “Go, rinse that shampoo out.... _but_ we’re talking about this when you get out.”

Matt gave an eye roll of his own.

“Foggy, I can explain,” Matt said as soon as he entered the living room, freshly dressed.

“You always say that-”

“I just wanted to find his source.”

“So you broke into his office – an office that predictably has security cameras inside.”

“I was wearing my mask,” Matt offered.

Foggy put his head in his hands. “I can’t even-” he groaned to himself. “There’s this thing called facial recognition-”

“Yes, I’ve heard of facial recognition,” Matt said witheringly. “It’ll be fine, Fog. I-”

“Did you find anything?”

“Uh, I- I thought… uh, not really,” Matt said truthfully. He hesitated, then said in a smaller voice, “can you tell it’s me?”

“You’re pretty fuzzy. I think it’d be hard to use this as concrete evidence – although it’s easier now that you’re the subject of these accusations. You’ve got to be more careful. You’re not anonymous anymore and you know as well as I do that people are suggestible-"

“But you said-”

“Security cameras are getting better all the time. You just got lucky breaking into the office of an industry in financial strife.”

When Matt didn’t respond, Foggy continued, “can you please just agree not to go breaking into the offices of the Bulletin.... or the DA’s office... or any office, in fact, at least until we have further information. It’s not the smart move, Matt. You said yourself that this whole thing would just blow over, but you’ve made sure that isn’t going to happen now. You’re a headline again.”

Foggy waited for a response, but Matt merely stood there, rubbing his thumb along the inside of his other palm. “Matt? Is that a promise?”

“I won’t go back to the offices without a good reason,” Matt said in a bored tone. “That’s the best I can do.”

“And you will run it by me first,” Foggy countered.

Matt looked like he was going to disagree, but eventually he capitulated, “and I will run it by your first.” He turned away, cross that he’d been caught on camera, and even more frustrated that Foggy had discovered he’d snuck out.

As Matt wandered into the kitchen in search of coffee, Foggy said in a soft voice, “hey, we’ll get through this, but we need to play it smart. Hell’s Kitchen supports you... _both_ of you. We just need to make sure it stays that way. And just... just please tell me next time you want to sneak out. Imagine if you’d had a seizure.”

Matt sniffed at Foggy’s use of the seizure card.

They remained in a silent stand-off as they walked to work – a silence punctuated occasionally by the odd thank you to Matt from local fans of Daredevil. Each time Matt was thanked, Foggy gave a small grunt of annoyance.

Eventually Matt pulled Foggy aside. “Look, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I’m trying to work this out as much as you. I was hoping to head this thing off, and protect you and Karen.”

“Apology accepted,” Foggy grumbled, pulling his arm away and continuing to the office.

Matt jogged a few feet to catch up, but Foggy didn’t offer his arm like he usually did and so Matt just hung back, demurely swinging his cane instead.

Karen’s first words on entering the office didn’t help. “Really, Matt? Breaking into the Bulletin? What were you thinking?”

Foggy grumbled, “he wasn’t.”

“You’ve made your point.... both of you,” Matt said, disappearing into his office. Karen trailed afterwards, listing off his appointments for this morning. “And Kirsten is scheduled for 1pm. I told her you were fully booked, but she insisted, so I stuck her in your lunch break.”

“I’ve just lost my appetite anyway,” Matt deadpanned.

The scheduled appointment didn’t happen after all. Matt had a timely seizure late morning and Karen was saddled with the task of rescheduling his solo afternoon appointments, including Kirsten’s mystery appointment.

While Matt was in his deep post-seizure sleep, Karen pulled Foggy aside. “I’m worried about Matt’s judgement.”

“Only now? Matt’s judgement has always been a worry.”

Karen gave Foggy an exasperated look. “I know. But do you think maybe all those seizures have resulted in… uh, you know, some permanent changes to his brain?”

“Karen, I really don’t want to talk about this-”

“Okay, so how we going to stop Matt from doing things like his Bulletin stunt again? You live with him, Foggy. How did you not know?”

“That guy is as stealthy as a pro-hunter, Karen. You try hearing him, let alone stopping him.”

Karen crossed her arms. “Maybe I will.”

“Or we could call Danny,” Foggy suggested.

“To hold him down?”

“No, just tail him.”

“Isn’t Jessica better for that?”

Foggy raised one eyebrow. “I guess. I don’t think she’d be keen to help us though after Mr Fear pretty much destroyed her because of us.”

“I’ll pay a visit to Mr Fear. See if he talked.”

“No need. Apparently he’s been tight lipped about Daredevil. His crazy revenge plot was all about Matt Murdock.”

“Well, someone has spilled.”

“But you don’t need to be running off to Rikers. We all need to stay calm and pretend everything’s normal and Matt likes to spend his evenings reading on the couch with his lapdog.”

Karen gave a huff of amusement, and Foggy couldn’t help but laugh too. “I remember when I thought he was hooking up every night,” he said wistfully. “How wrong I was.”

Foggy and Karen had barely returned to their work when there was a rap at the door. “Karen, do we have an appointment?” Foggy called.

“Uh, appointment, no,” Karen said, not looking up from her work. She’d been so focused on delving into reporter Tim Walters’ online presence that she hadn’t registered the knocking.

She looked up at the sound of a small argument on the other side of the door:

“Just go in.”

“What, like a raid?”

“It’s an office. You walk into an office.”

“They’re your friends, Marcus.”

“We’re not friends. My mother knows Nelson’s mother, that’s all.”

The argument ended when Karen opened the door to Marcus and a uniformed police officer.

“Detective,” Karen said with a nod.

“Karen Page,” Marcus replied. “This is officer Fusco. We’re here to see-”

“Marcus!” Foggy bounded out of the office, a broad smile on his face. “What can I do for you?” Foggy was louder and more theatrical than usual. It didn’t fool anyone.

“Well, we’re here to see your business partner.”

“Matt’s busy right now. Can I help?”

“Well-” Fusco started, but Marcus interrupted with “no problem. It’s just a formality. We can come back another time.”

Foggy narrowed his eyes. “What’s this about?”

“We’re just following up on a complaint.”

“What about?”

“Look, get Murdock to give me a call when he’s free,” Marcus said.

Matt’s office door opened and the man himself appeared. His hair was askew and his tie was missing, but he was wearing his glasses that at least disguised his tired eyes.

Matt cleared his throat. “You wanted to see me?”

Marcus said, “you’re not busy.”

“Resting,” Matt replied.

Marcus finally cottoned on. “Oh, are you okay?”

“I will be,” Matt replied with a forced smile.

“We just have a couple of questions. Should we step into your office?” He took a step towards Matt.

Matt didn’t budge. “What’s this about?”

“Your office?”

“Here is fine,” Matt said. “I’m sure Karen and Foggy don’t mind.”

“Oh, okay… um, we just wanted to ask you where you were at 2am on Wednesday morning.”

“As in two nights ago?”

“Yes.”

“Home. In bed.”

“So you weren’t at the offices of the Bulletin?”

“No.”

“And can this be corroborated by anyone?”

Matt shrugged. “I was asleep.”

Marcus looked at Foggy. “You two are roomies still, right?”

“We share an apartment,” Foggy corrected. “I was asleep too.”

“Well, I guess that settles it,” Marcus said, rubbing his hands. “Thanks for your help. We’ll let you get back to work… or whatever you’re doing,” he added to Matt.

Matt smiled. “Goodbye Marcus.”

Matt dropped his smile as soon as the two men left the room and put his hand out to Foggy to stop him interrupting. “Just wait”, Matt mouthed to Foggy.

Matt frowned as he listened to Marcus and Fusco’s exchange outside.

He could hear Fusco hiss at Marcus, “why didn’t you ask him about the Daredevil thing?”

“There are some things you just let lie,” Marcus replied. “Besides, he said he was sleeping and there’s no evidence otherwise.”

“The surveillance tape.”

“The tape can’t be used to positively ID Daredevil. Leave it.”

“What if Towers wants-”

“I said leave it,” Marcus said more forcefully. “We have a domestic assault case to investigate. We’ve wasted enough time on this already. Come on,” he said, getting into the parked police car.

Foggy waited until Matt’s posture relaxed before he said, “so? What did you hear?”

“Marcus. He’s protecting Daredevil.”

Foggy whistled. “I bet you didn’t see that coming,” he said.

Matt raised his eyebrows high above his glasses. “I’m going to lie down again,” he said, turning back to his office. “I’m sorry, I-”

“That’s fine,” Foggy said to Matt’s back. “Just don’t sneak out the window or anything.”

Matt gave Foggy a dismissive wave and closed the door behind him and Daisy.


	7. I wanted Daredevil

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think my time off work recently gave me the push I needed to get back into this story. It's coming along nicely. Enjoy!

Matt slid into the booth opposite Foggy. Before they could exchange more than greetings, the waitress appeared at the table and poured them both a coffee. “Hi guys. The usual? Regular pancakes,” she said to Matt, and “choc-chip with bacon,” she said to Foggy.

“I’ll have mine with bacon too,” Matt said, reaching down to give the wagging Daisy a pat.

As soon as the waitress had left, Foggy said, “you know Daisy’s not meant to have too much salt.”

“Neither are you, if I recall,” Matt retorted. “How’s that low sodium diet going?”

Foggy huffed and said, “how did it go with Julia and Elizabeth?”

Matt sighed. “As well as it could I guess. I mean, Julia already knew about my fighting ability, and Elizabeth had an inkling thanks to the Mr Fear and mugging incidents.”

“You didn’t confirm you were Daredevil though?”

“No, it seemed to go unsaid. Elizabeth had a few questions about how I can fight, but it turned into a conversation we had to have about Julia’s own extraordinary abilities.”

“Her strength,” Foggy supplied.

“And her senses. They’re not as acute as mine, but she can hear and sense more than the average person.”

“So she joins you and Stick as super-listeners.”

Matt shook his head. “Stick doesn’t have the same abilities as me. He trained, but his hearing isn’t nearly as naturally as good as mine. He-he can’t hear heartbeats,” Matt said hesitantly, knowing that it was still a delicate topic. He waved his hand dismissively, not wanting to talk about his former mentor. “Anyway, we’re going to re-commence Julia’s training,” he said.

“That’s great,” Foggy said.

“But Elizabeth wants to be present at all times.” Matt quickly added, “which is fine. It’s her right. I don’t blame her really. When I think about the liberties Stick…” he petered off. “Anyway, we start again next week.”

“You know the topic of Daredevil will come up eventually,” Foggy said.

Matt shushed Foggy as the waitress appeared with their pancakes. He waited for her to return to the kitchen before replying, “and I’ll deal with that when it comes. For now, I’ll go along with whatever truths they want to believe.”

Foggy supposed a normal person publicly outed as being a vigilante would lie low for a while, but Matt wasn’t normal. But then Foggy supposed vigilantes weren’t normal full stop. Consequently, he shouldn’t have been surprised when Matt donned his armored hoodie suit that night.

“Is that wise, Matt?” Foggy asked from the couch.

“I can’t let bullying and intimidation win,” Matt replied.

“It’s not really bullying,” Foggy said under his breath.

“I have work to do,” Matt said.

“Not breaking into offices under the watchful eye of a security camera I hope.” Foggy forced a chuckle.

Matt gave Foggy a withering glare.

“Okay, okay, I’m just checking,” Foggy sang.

“If you should know, I’m following up on the claims by Lola Gutierrez.”

“Drug smuggling. Are you up to that? Couldn’t you just start with a regular mugging or something?”

“The city needs me to be,” Matt shrugged. “There was something she said – it wasn’t quite the truth. I don’t think she’s quite as innocent as she claims to be.”

“I might be able to help. Maybe you could stay in and we’ll create a plan to-”

“I’ll tell you if I find something,” Matt interrupted. He pulled on his specially-made backpack containing an excited Daisy and made for the stairs.

“Okay, but call me if Daisy detects a seizure, or-or if you need help.”

Matt gave Foggy a cheeky thumbs up from the top of the stairs, and bounded out the rooftop door.

Matt stopped dead a few blocks from Lola’s apartment. “Danny. Great,” he hissed under his breath.

Matt considered turning around just to spite Foggy, but he desperately wanted to solve the mystery about Lola’s half-truths. So he sucked it up and leapt over to the roof of the apartment block where Lola Gutierrez shared a residence with her father and his cousin.

Danny grinned as he spotted the hooded figure jump onto the roof. “Hey Matt, I mean Dare-whatever… how’s it going? Foggy-”

“Yes, Foggy called you.”

“He said you’d get over it.”

“Did he now,” Matt muttered.

“So what are we doing? Why this block?”

“_We_ are not doing anything. You can stay here if you want. I’m on a case. It’d be a breach of client confidentiality. Foggy shouldn’t have given you this address even-”

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” Danny said. “I get it. I’ll wait here.”

Matt grunted. It was hard to stay mad at someone who was so good-natured. He pulled his hood further over his head and ducked through the roof access door (bless those smokers who kept the door permanently propped ajar). He counted backwards as he descended the staircase. At level 5, he exited the internal stairs and crept towards the nearest door. There were no numbers that Matt could sense. He ran his hand over the door and then to the door’s right and left. Not even a painted number. He inwardly cursed. Then he heard her: Lola. She was arguing with someone. Matt clenched his fists and made a beeline for her apartment.

In his haste, he didn’t realize until too late that the lock in her apartment door had just released. He quickly spun around, hoping that he could escape into the stairwell as a regular hoodie-wearing resident, but Lola called out “hey”.

Matt picked up the pace. He closed the stairwell door behind him and took the first half-flight of stairs in bounds of three. There was a smash of glass from behind. Matt paused briefly, then fell sideways as the wail of the fire alarm echoed through the stairs. He grabbed his ears, completely disoriented. He puffed a few stabilizing breaths then pushed himself to his feet. He couldn’t uncover his ears, but with the sound slightly muffled he could at least move. But moved the wrong way, tumbling down a set of 9 stairs and coming to rest in the corner of the landing. Everything ached... well, most things. He could feel his hood soft around the back of his head. If nothing else, at least Melvin’s ‘airbag’ hoodie protected his poor battered brain.

Hands over his ears, he managed to tap the deflate button as he stumbled to his feet. With his right elbow against the wall, he navigated his way to the first stair, taking an uneasy step before accelerating up to the next landing. He could feel the rush of air as residents passed him one-by-one in the opposite direction. A few of them yelled at him that he was going the wrong way, but he merely ignored them, head down and hoodie up. His head was spinning as he rounded the corner, elbow still against the wall. Someone grabbed his arm and he instinctively kicked out. Even with the alarm blaring he could hear a scream of pain. He stumbled forward, desperate to get to the roof. He picked up the speed, taking two stairs at a time until his toe clipped the edge of a step and he fell forward. Time seemed to slow… he waited for the inevitable collision and then…

“Matt, Matt, can you hear me?” Danny shook Matt’s shoulder.

Matt curled up on his side like a slater exposed to the sun. Daisy, who was now out of the backpack and was performing her role as post-seizure doggy caregiver, gave Matt’s hand a few gentle licks.

“Matt, talk to me,” Danny pleaded.

Matt gave a grunt.

“That’s a start,” Danny said encouragingly. “Foggy says you have to talk to me in words.”

“Fog”, Matt grunted.

“Foggy’s not here. I can phone him again though,” Danny said. He pulled out his phone. Foggy answered before the second ring.

“_Hey, is he awake_?”

“Yes, but he’s still pretty out of it.”

“_Can you put me on?_”

Danny put the phone on the lowest speaker level and placed it next to Matt’s ear. “Foggy,” Danny whispered.

Matt opened his eyes as Foggy spoke: “_Hey, Matt. You had a seizure, but you’re with Danny and he’s going to help you get home. You’re safe_.”

“Fog,” Matt replied, his voice hoarse and dry.

“_Yeah, it’s Fog. Matt, do you understand what happened?_”

“Seiz…” Matt mumbled.

“_Yeah, you had a seizure. But you’re safe_. _Danny’s there. He won’t leave you_.”

Matt stretched out his back, groaning as his sore muscles protested. He rolled over and put out his hand, letting out a gasp of pain as his wrist told him that he hadn’t escaped injury. Daisy nuzzled at Matt’s chest in concern.

“What’s wrong?” Danny asked, just as Foggy said the same thing.

Matt licked his lips. “I- slee-”

“_Yeah, you can sleep soon_,” Foggy said softly. “_But you need to get somewhere safer first_.”

Danny picked up the phone. “Foggy, I think we’re probably okay up here for a while. We’re on an adjacent rooftop but we’re hidden behind some old pallets. I think the fire department is satisfied there isn’t any fire because they were only up here for a minute.”

“_Why must it always be rooftops_,” Foggy muttered. “_Okay_,” he said to Danny. “_Give me a call if anything changes. He’ll probably sleep for an hour or two_.”

“Will do,” Danny said, looking down at the now sleeping Matt.

Matt woke slowly, gradually accepting that the day was happening despite the fact that he felt he could sleep forever. He was parched. Nudging his thick blanket aside, he rolled over and felt for the glass of water that usually sat on his bedside table. As he did so, he nudged a piece of card that fluttered to the ground. Daisy leapt off the bed and returned it to Matt, her tail wagging as she held it delicately in her mouth.

Matt threw down half the glass of water before reaching for the card. It was only then that he realized he’d re-injured his right wrist. “Fuck,” he panted as he supported his aching, swollen arm. He collapsed back into the pillows, breathing through the pain. Daisy picked up the card again and dropped it meaningfully on Matt’s chest.

Matt felt the raised text with his left hand. “_At work. Let you sleep after PM seizure. Ring me_”.

Matt closed his eyes. He wasn’t ready for the day just yet. He woke again to the frantic buzzing of his phone. He scrambled to find it amongst the folds of his blanket.

“Foggy,” he croaked into the speaker.

Foggy waited until he returned home that evening to address the burning issue. After grabbing a beer from the fridge, Foggy asked Matt, “so are we going to talk about what happened last night?”

“S’nothing to talk about,” Matt replied from the couch. He unconsciously rolled his shoulder, wincing at the twinge that followed. He’d have to remember not to take his shirt off around Foggy until the bruising had faded.

“Danny found you seizing in a stairwell. He had to carry you out of there.”

“I-I didn’t realize.”

“You don’t remember what happened?”

“There was a fire alarm. No fire. Someone – I think Lola – activated it when they saw me.”

“With your mask on?”

Matt shook his head. “Just my hoodie. I didn’t show my face”.

“Anything else?”

Matt thought for a moment. “Lola was arguing, but I don’t know what it was about.”

“It could have been over the dishes for all you know then.”

Matt sighed and picked at the elastic bandage around his right wrist.

Foggy ran his fingers through his hair. “Can you just leave all this night time stuff for a while? We can help Lola. If there’s something odd about the case, then we can investigate together as Matt and Foggy. No need to skulk around at night, risking your life and your identity.”

“You don’t understand,” Matt retorted. “The city needs me in the mask.”

“Not as you are now,” Foggy replied. “You put on the mask and the city loses both Daredevil and Matt Murdock.”

The next day, Lola turned up unannounced at the office. They’d barely got the hellos out of the way when Lola said outright, “are you really Daredevil?”

Matt took a deep breath. “Don’t believe everything you read in the media.”

“Why were you in my apartment block the other night?”

Matt tried to think quick. He didn’t think anyone saw his face.

Lola pointed her finger at Matt. “It was you that I saw. I know it. You fell in the stairwell.”

Foggy interrupted with, “you think you saw Matt unconscious?” That didn’t match Danny’s account of the incident. Everyone had evacuated, so no one was around when Matt had seized, Danny had assured Foggy.

“Not unconscious,” Lola said. “You tripped on the stairs and fell against the landing. Your hoodie inflated – I think – or something happened, but I could clearly see your face.” Lola glanced at Foggy, then turned back to Matt, studying him for a minute. “Take off your glasses. I want to see.” She took a step forward, hand outreached as if about to remove the glasses herself.

“That won’t be necessary,” Matt said crisply.

“If you were Daredevil, you wouldn’t have tripped.”

Matt gave a forced laugh. “You’re probably right.” This was his out.

“That’s disappointing,” Lola said.

Foggy snorted. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I wanted Daredevil,” she said. “_You_ can’t even climb stairs.”

“I thought you wanted a lawyer,” Matt said in a warning tone.

“Lawyers aren’t going to protect me.”

“Protect you from what, Lola?”

But Lola just huffed and walked out the door.

“Well…” Foggy began.

“Well,” Matt echoed.

Foggy studied Matt for a moment then gave a snort of amusement. “You’re actually a bit disappointed aren’t you,” Foggy teased.

“No,” Matt retorted.

“Yes, you are. Your ego is bruised.”

“My wrist is the only thing bruised,” Matt snapped.

Foggy gave another snort.

“We should get back to work,” Matt said crisply, turning back to his office. “We need to get make up for that client we just lost.”


	8. Burning the candle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt's reaction to Lola Gutierrez's confession worries his friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone is keeping well in these challenging times.

The night after Lola’s confession, Foggy watched as Matt emerged from his bedroom, dressed in his old red suit. “Really? You’re going out in that?” When Matt didn’t respond, Foggy pointed out, “at least the hoodie keeps your head cushioned when you fall.”

“I’m not going to fall,” Matt replied.

Foggy rolled his eyes. 

“The city needs a symbol, Foggy. I can’t be that skulking around in a black hoodie.”

“Skulking,” Foggy repeated in a tone of amusement. He watched as Matt pulled on his gloves. “it’s a bit loose on you. You’ve lost some meat.”

Matt ignored the comment. He pulled the glove straps tight, then reached for the mask which was balanced on the back of the armchair.

“I’m calling Danny,” Foggy said.

“I know.”

“Call me if Daisy alerts you.”

“I will.”

“ And – I feel like I shouldn’t have to say this - but stay safe, Matt.”

Matt paused. “I will.”

Matt had already called Danny before putting on the suit, but he let Foggy think he was helping anyway. He sat on the ledge of his rooftop and waited for Danny to arrive.

“Nice suit,” Danny said with a whistle. “Sorry I’m late. Foggy called me and-”

Matt put his hand up to stop. “I know.”

“ So are we going back to the apartment block?”

“Nope. It turned out my client wanted Daredevil, not a lawyer.”

“So… um, why is that a problem?”

Matt shook his head. “I’m still puzzling. It doesn’t make sense and yet...” he paused. He didn’t know how to explain the feeling that he had that it wasn’t as straight forward as his client wanting Daredevil. “In the meantime, I just want to take back control of Hell’s Kitchen.”

“You make it sound like a war.”

Matt tipped his head. “Are you going to tell me why you’re wearing  a head covering ?”

“You can see that? Man…” 

Matt just waited. He turned away from Danny ever so slightly, expressing his impatience.

“ Fine,” Danny finally said. “ It’s a mask of my own. Foggy told me that the police are asking questions. I figured as Daredevil’s team-up-”

“-not a team up.”

Danny sighed. “Fine. As someone who picks Daredevil up when he has a seizure-”

“ That’s not-”

“We’re a team,” Danny insisted.

Matt huffed. “Fine, we’re a team.”

Danny grinned before saying more seriously. “Think about it, Matt. If I – Danny Rand - am identified as an acquaintance of Daredevil, questions are going to come my way. I might even need a good lawyer. I’d rather not have to lie.”

Matt had to admit Danny was right. He sighed and said, “fair enough.”

“ So I got a mask of my own.”

“It’s a bandana,” Matt corrected.

“Well, yes. I don’t have the same costume contacts as you.”

“Is the man-bun also part of the disguise?”

“ Hey you noticed ,” Danny said happily. “ Yeah, so someone at Rand told me about man-buns and  I thought-”

Matt tuned out on Danny’s chatter. His mind was on the man following a lone woman in an adjacent street. The man’s heartbeat was beating fast, as was the  woman’s . But while one was the beat of arousal, the latter was fear. 

Matt jumped to his feet and threw one half of his  billy club to a rung on a neighboring apartment block’s fire escape. The metal line hissed as it unfurled. Leaping off the roof, he swung in a large arc down to the street, lithely landing on the sidewalk. A quick flick of the wrist returned the line and the two parts of the club clicked back into one.

“Matt,” Danny hissed from the rooftop. “Matt,  _ wait _ !”

But Matt was already off at a run, leaving Danny desperately looking for a quick way off the roof.

Matt waited at the corner of the street for the duo . The woman passed, unaware of the devil’s presence. Matt quietly stepped out in front of the man.

The man let out a frightened squawk.

“Y-you!” the man stuttered.

“Me,” Matt said. 

“I-I thought-”

“That you’d stalk an innocent woman?”

“Uh, uh, no. I thought you were gone. I wasn’t  sta -stalking- ”

“Good. I’d hate to have to take further action.” Matt paused and then pulled his lips into a false grin. “Well, that’s not strictly true. When it comes to men like you, I’m more than happy to take further action.” Matt dropped the smile.

“No, no, you don’t need to do anything. I’ll go,” the man stuttered. “Please, let me go.”

Matt put his hand out. “Give me your  knife .”

“I don’t have a  knife .”

“ Do you want to find out just how ha ppy I am to take further action? ”

“No, no, I-I I’ll give you the knife.”

The man pulled the knife from his boot. He offered it to Matt with shaking hands.

Matt tisked. “Didn’t your mother teach you any manners? Offer it with the handle towards me.”

The man swapped hands and offered Matt the knife handle first.

“There, that wasn’t so hard was it,” Matt said smoothly. He could hear the woman’s footsteps getting fainter and fainter.

Matt threw the knife upright into the air, spinning fast. He casually caught it by the hilt and tapped the blade against his gloves, feeling its weight.

The man let out another squawk and ran in the opposite direction, wheezing before he’d even reached the corner. 

It was replaced with the sound of more deep breathing. “Matt,” Danny snapped from behind. 

“Yeah?” Matt spun around to face Danny. 

Danny said, “why have you got a knife?” The knife’s blade caught the reflection of the streetlight and Danny made an annoyed sound as it shone straight into his eyes. “Hey don’t do that,” he said, shading his face.

Matt smirked and leaned over to one of the open trash bags waiting for morning collection. He speared the half-eaten apple with the tip and knotted the bag closed. “I don’t have a knife,” he said.

“Don’t do that to me again. Don’t just run off – or swing off – and leave me,” Danny said. He sounded cross – a tone that Matt wasn’t used to with Danny. It was enough for Matt to  apologize .

“But you’re going to have to get quicker on those fire escapes,” Matt remarked.

“Or you could get me one of those stick things.”

“ Mmm ... maybe,” Matt said in a tone that said  _ no, definitely not _ . Even if Melvin was prepared to make a second club, he didn’t really want to have to teach Danny how to use it. Danny might have fighting skills, but his balance and coordination and spatial awareness were nothing compared to Matt’s natural gymnastic abilities. 

“Come on, I think I can hear something a few blocks West,” Matt said in a low voice. He took off down the street, Danny in tow.

“You made the papers again, Matt,” Karen said as Matt and Foggy arrived at the office the next morning. “I’m assuming Danny’s the one in yellow.”

Matt stopped dead. “He’s in  _ yellow? _ ”

Karen snickered. “He didn’t say?”

“He told me about his mask, but he never said it was the color of  the  sun.”

“You’re in red,” Foggy pointed out. “It’s hardly subtle either.”

Matt gave Foggy a dismissive wave, then turned back to Karen. “What does the paper say?”

“Just that Daredevil’s back in his horned red suit. There’s more speculation about your identity and something about the DA’s office looking into vigilante activities in Hell’s Kitchen. There’s a grainy picture too.”

Foggy craned his head over Karen’s desk. “Nice action shot.”

Matt said, “can you see me?”

“Do you mean can I identify you as Matt Murdock? No,” Foggy replied. “Lucky for you, phones aren’t that great in low light.”

“Seriously?” Foggy said as Matt pulled out his suit that night.

“Yeah, I stopped five different incidents last night, Fogs. I did good.”

“But you need to rest. Give it a break tonight and go out tomorrow night.”

“Crime doesn’t stop just because I need to rest.” He pronounced  _ rest _ as if it were a dirty word. “Besides, it’s not as if I’m out all night. I sleep... I just go to bed a bit later.”

“That’s exactly what Dr Millet said not to do.”

Matt pulled a face at the mention of his neurologist.

Foggy sighed and leaned back against the couch. “Okay, but I’m calling Danny.”

“I know.”

“Call me if Daisy alerts you.”

“I will.”

“And stay safe, Matt.”

Matt paused. “I will.”

Despite having a  seizure the next day, Matt still went out again that night – his third night in a row. He was slow to pull on the suit, hissing as he threaded his arms into the heavy fabric. He was exhausted and knew as well as Foggy that he should give it a rest. One hour, Matt promised himself. Make an appearance, then return home.

The night wasn’t a complete waste of time. He stopped a minor robbery, but openly admitted afterwards to Danny that he probably should have left the direct combat up to him. He didn’t think the bodega owner was all that impressed with Matt’s clumsy fall into the rack of delicate fruit and vegetables.

Matt felt better on night four, despite the fact that the day after a seizure still saw him sore and less than sharp-witted. He stopped a couple of small crimes – enough to earn him the kudos he deserved among the letter writers to the  _ Bulletin _ .  Apparently Daredevil’s identity was less important to the people of Hell’s Kitchen than his crime-fighting abilities and presence.

Matt returned home to find Foggy eating cheese balls and playing a game that involved lots of roaring dinosaurs. “Foggy, I thought we agreed-”

“That you’d take it easy?”

“That you wouldn’t eat those things in the apartment.”

“Well, I guess we’re both disappointed then.” Foggy put down the control. “How was it? Did you save any  damsels in distress?”

“That’s not very PC of you,” Matt said seriously. “But I did intervene in an attempted sexual assault.”

“That’s good – I mean not good for her-”

“H im,” Matt corrected.

“Him. It’s good that you could help.”

Matt threw his mask onto the armchair and then collapsed onto the couch. Daisy leapt onto his lap, giving him a sneaky lick on his hand before snuggling into his chest, armor and all.

Matt huffed in amusement at what looked like nothing .

Foggy shot him a baffled look. “What?”

“Oh, I’m just remembering ,” Matt said with a smile. He turned to Foggy. “Y ou know people actually cheered me on tonight?”

“Cheered? ”

“Yeah, they were chanting  ‘ _ Daredevil _ _ , Daredevil _ ’ as I  intervened in a bar fight.”

“ Isn’t a bar fight a little bit under Daredevil?”

“Not when there’s been a spike in  glassings lately. You were the one that saw the photos of Bones,” Matt said, referring to one of their clients who was still undergoing surgery after being glassed in a bar.

Foggy sighed. “True.” He watched as Matt drummed his fingers on the edge of the couch. Despite the fact that Matt looked wreaked, he was practically vibrating with endorphins, so Foggy offered, “do you want a beer?”

Matt smiled. “Yeah, thanks, Fog.”

It was night five. Matt dragged out his suit, less enthusiastic than before. It was two days after his last seizure so he should have more energy than the day before, but it wasn’t like the old days when Matt could go out night after night and not lose the drive.

Danny was waiting for him on the rooftop. He greeted Matt then said, “hey, so is this a nightly thing now?’

“People need to know I’m there to protect them,” Matt replied. He still hadn’t acknowledged - even to himself - that it was also about ego. Even though he was still publicly denying that Matt Murdock was Daredevil, he felt more of a need than ever to defend Daredevil’s reputation within Hell’s Kitchen.

“I like teaming up with you, don’t get me wrong, but do you think we could take a break tomorrow night – maybe chill out. I’ll get take out from that Thai place you like.”

“Take a break if you want,” Matt replied.

“But you’re not.”

“No.” Matt moved to the edge of the rooftop. “I’m committed to this.” He flicked half of his  billy club at the neighboring fire escape and leapt off the roof. 

Danny ran to the edge of the roof. “Hey, I thought you weren’t going to do that anymore.” 

But Matt was already off down the street.

The next day, Karen couldn’t hold her tongue any longer. She’d watched Matt slow over the last few days, but today, he looked like he was trying to wade through honey. His moves were sluggish and not as coordinated as usual. When he only narrowly avoided walking into the doorframe, Karen said, “do you think you need a break?”

“It’s just discovery,” Matt said, steadying himself against the doorframe.

“I don’t mean your work as an attorney. I mean your other activities. You need sleep, Matt.”

“I have been sleeping.”

“Foggy said-”

Matt rolled his eyes and retorted, “Foggy doesn’t come into this.”

“He does if you don’t take it easy. You can’t keep burning the candle at both ends.”

Matt huffed and disappeared into his office. He stuffed one earpiece into his ear and returned to the document he’d been trying and failing to read. He couldn’t even remember where he was up to. He sighed and closed his eyes. He was in an impossible position.

“Matt, wake up,” Foggy said, poking Matt’s shoulder.

“ Ngh what,” Matt said with a start. “Wasn’t sleeping.”

“And I’m Captain America,” Foggy replied. 

Matt sighed. “Sorry Fog.”

“We’re going home.”

Matt reached for his laptop. “I have to finish-”

“You’re coming home. We’re going to get take out and sit at home and not go out-”

“You can’t stop me.”

“Can I physically tie you down and prevent you from leaving the apartment? No. Can I plead with you to take care of yourself? Yes. Come on, Matt. Just one night.”

“I have to finish reading this document. You go home, do what you want to do. Play video games or however you want to fill your time.”

“That’s not fair,” Foggy said.

“Life’s not fair.”

Foggy rolled his eyes. “Fine, stay here.” He stormed into his office and started angrily packing his bag, flicking off the lights as he left the office with more force than necessary.

Matt leaned over to ruffle Daisy’s fur. “You’ll keep me company,” he whispered to the dog. 

Foggy had barely reached two blocks when he got a call from Matt. In a small voice, Matt said, “can you come back? Daisy’s...” he petered off. Foggy knew exactly what Daisy was alerting Matt to.

Matt was already seizing when Foggy burst into Matt’s office. He looked at his watch. It was 6.50 now. It couldn’t have been more than a minute since Matt’s seizure started. Foggy cursed. If only he’d stuck around for another five minutes. If only...

At least Matt had had the sense to lie on the couch. Foggy didn’t have to do much other than watch Matt and time the seizure. 6.51, 6.52. Matt stilled and Foggy let go of the breath he didn’t know he was holding. But before Foggy could attempt to get a response from Matt, Daisy gave a tortured bark, and Matt immediately stiffened as he went into his second seizure.

“Oh Matt,” Foggy groaned. He reached for his phone and dialed 911. 


	9. Rumors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even in a medical emergency, Matt cannot escape the rumors... or at least Foggy can't for now.

The EMTs were at the office within a record five minutes, moving swiftly to get Matt stabilized and into the back of the ambulance. As they were driving, one of the EMTs said to Foggy, “so, Matt Murdock... he’s the one they say is Daredevil, right?”

Foggy replied, “rumors.”

“But he is the guy they’re talking about.”

“Apparently.” Foggy gestured to the rear of the ambulance where Matt was still unconscious. “But you can make your own mind up based on what you just saw there.”

“He’s a hero,” the EMT replied.

Foggy thought for a moment, “is that why you came so quickly? You thought you were coming to the rescue of Daredevil?”

“Ha! No, but that would be something, huh. Your address is flagged in the system as priority-response. You said he’s gone into SE before?”

“Oh, yeah,” Foggy said softly. He kept his eyes on the window, watching as New Yorkers ignored the flashing lights of the ambulance. He was about to ask if the traffic was always this slow to respond, but his thoughts were interrupted by a yell from the back, “seizing again.”

The driver flicked a switch and the sirens started to wail. A taxi made a pitiful attempt to move right.

“Come on. Move would you,” Foggy moaned, gesticulating at the traffic.

“We’re only a few blocks away,” the EMT said, trying to reassure the increasingly agitated Foggy.

Foggy sighed. “I know. It’s not our first time.”

From the back there was a yelled update, “ seizure’s stopped. 1 minute 5.” 

The EMT rattled off a bunch of stats that Foggy couldn’t understand, although he could at least interpret some of the blood gas stuff now. Whatever was happening, it didn’t sound good. Foggy picked at the skin around his nails, a nervous habit that only  seemed to emerge nowadays when Matt was in a medical emergency.

“He’s been busy lately,” the driving EMT said conversationally.

Foggy gave him a puzzled look. “What?”

The EMT pointed behind him with his thumb. “Daredevil. He’s been busy.”

“Um, I don’t know,” Foggy said. Daredevil was the last thing he wanted to talk about right now. He was tempted to get out of the vehicle and knock on every car door in front of them in an attempt to get them to move.

“I get it. You can’t say anything. You probably know better than most. Lawyer by day, vigilante by night. How does he do both?”

Foggy was about to reply with something that he would have regretted when the traffic finally opened up and the ambulance slipped through, sirens still blaring.

As Matt was handed over to the waiting ER staff, the EMT said to Foggy, “we’re all batting for Daredevil. Tell him that.”

Foggy didn’t even bother to argue. He just nodded and said, “thanks, I will.”

A couple of hours later, Foggy was waiting by Matt’s side in the high dependency ward of Metro General. Matt still hadn’t woken up, but that was largely to do with the large volume of sedatives that he’d been plied with in an attempt to avoid a fourth seizure. He’d escaped intubation this time, instead being subjected to the alien mask that Matt loathed so much, but was unfortunately now well-acquainted with. As each minute passed,  Foggy’s resolve to call Matt a stupid idiot as soon as he woke up somewhat lessened. By the third hour, Foggy decided a simple ‘idiot’ could suffice, and by the fourth, Foggy settled on a neutral ‘hi, how are you?’ 

Eventually Foggy agreed with the nurses that it was probably safe to go home and return the next morning and so he returned home to an empty apartment. As he crawled into bed, his phone lit up with a message from Karen: it was an image of Daisy curled up asleep on Karen’s bed.

“ _ Thanks for collecting her from the office _ ,” Foggy texted back.

“ _ Any time. How’s Matt? _ ”

“ _ Stable. He’s on non-invasive ventilation in the HDU. _ ”

“ _ Oh no! _ ”

“ _ They said he’d sleep all night, so I’m home for now. Would you take Daisy to the office tomorrow? I’ll work from the hospital unless something changes. _ ”

“ _ Sure. Let me know how he goes xo. _ ”

Not wanting to miss a potential call from the hospital, Foggy turned his phone up as loud as it could go and placed it next to his head. “Please be alright,” he whispered in the direction of the hospital. It was about as religious as Foggy got. 

Foggy woke to a loud  ** _ bing _ ** ** _ _ ** ** _ bing _ ** next to his head. “Argh!” He  scrabbled for his phone amongst the sheets.

He groaned when he noticed the sender: Danny.

“ _ Where’s Matt? You guys weren’t home and Matt’s not answering my calls _ .”

Foggy was tempted to ignore Danny, but he knew that sleep was near impossible if he did that. He texted back, “ _ Matt’s in hospital. Talk tomorrow. _ ”

Foggy’s text had the opposite than desired effect. 

“ _ Hopsible _ _ ? Why  _ _ wahts _ _ wrong _ ?”

“ _ The usual. Seizures. Talk tomorrow. _ ”

“ _ Is it because no slept? _ ”

Foggy sighed and put his phone on the bedside table. But there was no peace for Foggy yet. The phone dinged again. Foggy gave a huff of annoyance and looked at the glowing screen.

“ _ Is it serious? _ ”

“ _ He’s in hospital, so yes. Go to sleep. _ ”

“ _ Can I visit? _ ”

“ _ It depends on his recovery. BTW this is my last response because I’m turning my phone on do not disturb so that I can get some sleep. _ ” The threat was a bluff, of course, but Foggy hoped Danny would fall for it.

Before Foggy could return his phone to the bedside table, the phone flashed up with, “ _ wait! Is there anything I can do? _ ”

“ _ Yes, go the fuck to sleep, _ ” Foggy tapped angrily, switching the phone to sleep mode and muttering profanities as he tossed his phone away. He could feel his heart beating fast in his chest and wondered if it was wrong to raid the bathroom cupboard for Matt’s stash of benzos. They were prescribed for seizure emergencies, but would have the effect right now of helping Foggy sleep. In the end, he decided that the fact Matt was drugged up on benzos to prevent further seizures not only made it wrong, but would also induce sleep-repelling guilt. And  so Foggy pulled his comforter over his head and started to count sheep instead.

When Foggy woke up the next morning and saw the exchange with Danny, he felt a twinge of guilt. He waited until he was at the hospital and had seen Matt before texting to Danny: “ _ Update on Matt: he’s still unconscious but hasn’t had another seizure _ .” He snapped a photo of Matt and after a moment’s hesitation pressed send. He didn’t know if the image of Matt with his breathing machine and various cords and tubes was helpful or not, but it was easier than words.

He was interrupted from this thought from a nurse, who came in to change one of the IV bags. 

She looked furtively at Foggy and whispered, “is it true what they say? I-is he Daredevil?”

Foggy swallowed the swear word he desperately wanted to yell. Angering the person caring for Matt was probably not the best move. 

“Rumors based on misinformation,” Foggy replied, looking at Matt rather than the nurse. He decided to change the subject. “Any thoughts on when he’ll wake up?”

“The doctors will be doing their rounds soon. You’ll have to wait.”

Foggy nodded. There was a lot of waiting.

A few hours later, Matt was pronounced stable and moved to the regular neurology ward. And so Foggy waited, watching the unmoving Matt in a different ward but still waiting. Waiting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was quite a short chapter, mainly because I wanted to post something for the sake of my mood. Readers, do you prefer more frequent short chapters or less frequent longer ones?


	10. Everyone has an opinion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In hospital, the gossip continues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone's keeping well. Hopefully no one else has landed in hospital IRL.

Matt slowly emerged into consciousness. He wasn’t aware of anything much at first. Just a general fuzziness. Through the pain and the haze, he suddenly became aware of an object on his face. He grabbed at it in a panic, pushing it away and trying to roll sideways. 

“Matt, Matt, Matt,” Foggy called from the other side of the room. “Calm down. I’m here. You’re in hospital. Don’t move.” 

Matt immediately stilled. He was disoriented enough that he couldn’t pick up on his surroundings, but Foggy’s voice cut through the panic. Matt tried to say Foggy’s name, but it came out more as a moan. 

“I know. You must feel like shit right now,” Foggy said, his voice louder. “Let me put the mask back, buddy. You need the oxygen still – or at least you did. You had a heap of seizures, then you had another small one just a few hours ago. Maybe they’ll remove it now that you’re awake.” Matt let Foggy replace the oxygen mask over his nose and mouth. “Lift up,” Foggy said, gently pulling Matt’s head up an inch. He gently pulled the elastic strap behind Matt’s head before adjusting the pillow so that Matt’s head was better supported. 

Matt starting to take in more of his surroundings – the smells, the slightly upright angle of the bed, the pain in his right arm where the IV cannula was. He shifted slight and it tugged again. 

“Shit, I think you’ve done something to your IV. It’s bleeding,” Foggy said. “I’ll get a nurse.” 

Matt made a noise of protest into the mask. He screwed up his face as it too came out as more of a moan than his intended, “Foggy”. 

“Stay there,” Foggy said as he left the room. 

_ As if I have the strength to move _, Matt thought to himself. 

His sleep was interrupted by a gentle squeeze of each hand. 

“Matt, can you hear me?” A familiar voice. Irish, sweet. 

“Matt, it’s Elsa. I’m a nurse at Metro General Hospital. You’re in hospital because you had a series of seizures. Can you squeeze my hands please.” 

Matt tried to think through the information. Foggy. Foggy had been here. He said to stay. 

He heard Foggy say, “he was awake only a minute ago.” 

_ A minute ago _? Matt felt like he’d been asleep for days. He weakly squeezed Elsa’s hands. 

“Good, Matt. Now can you open your eyes for me,” Elsa said. 

Matt groaned into the mask. 

“Okay, can you say something for me please, Matt?” 

Matt licked his dry lips. He attempted to say Foggy, but it came out much less distinct than that. But it seemed to satisfy the nurse. 

“That’s good,” Elsa praised. “Just relax while I take your vitals,” she said. Matt winced as she dropped something metallic on the floor. “Sorry,” she whispered. “I’m all thumbs today. I don’t have your coordination.” 

It was a throwaway line. Matt didn’t pick up on it, such was his fuzzy brain, but Foggy took note. Foggy wondered just how much the rumors about Matt’s double identity was going to affect his medical care. Foggy gave a small sigh and redirected the conversation. 

Matt could hear Elsa and Foggy chatting away as he was poked and prodded, but his awareness was such that their words became indistinct. The conversation merely formed a steady background noise that was almost soothing. 

He must have fallen asleep again because he was rudely awoken by a sharp pain in his hand. 

“I’m sorry, Matt,” Elsa said. “It’s just a new IV cannula. You tore out your old one. I thought you might sleep through it.” 

Matt gave a small grunt of acknowledgement. A minute later he was asleep again. 

It was a good couple of hours before Matt’s neurologist arrived. By that time, Matt was sitting up against his raised bedhead, awake but feeling very dopey. Foggy had convinced him to drink half a box of the apple drink that had come with his lunch, but was about the only activity he could perform for now. 

Dr Millet got her initial pleasantries and tests over quickly, then said, “I’d like to speak to you alone, Matt. Foggy, would you mind leaving us for a few minutes?” 

Matt said with a slight slur, “anything you want to say, you can say to Foggy too.” 

Foggy opened his mouth ready to argue that Matt probably wasn’t in a state to make informed decisions, but Dr Millet got there first. “You’re close,” she said bluntly. “I’m assuming that it isn’t easy to keep secrets from each other.” 

“You’d be surprised,” Foggy muttered. 

Dr Millet looked at Foggy in silence, trying to decipher the slight bitterness. She turned back to her patient. “Matt, as an attorney, you know about doctor patient confidentiality better than most. I know you do.” 

Matt tipped his head slightly. 

“So you know that you can tell me about any activities that affect your health,” Dr Millet said in a more gentle tone. 

When that didn’t get a response, the doctor continued, “I’ve heard the rumors, I’ve read the paper. If it’s true what they say, you’ve been busy. Probably too busy to get a regular sleep cycle in place,” she paused, watching for a reaction. 

Matt scrubbed at his face, “they’re rumors,” he said tiredly. 

Foggy stepped forward, “but it’s true that you haven’t been getting a regular sleep cycle – or even enough sleep full stop. Over the last week you’ve probably not had more than 4 hours a night.” He directed the words at Matt, but looked directly at the doctor. 

Matt looked utterly betrayed. Foggy could well have just told the doctor that yes, he was Daredevil, such was his expression. 

“Okay, well let’s start there,” Dr Millet said. She’d gained quite the understanding of Matt’s complex personality and stubbornness since she’d started treating him about a year ago. She’d learned that he tended to reject direct instructions, but would usually come around after an incident like this. 

“Matt, when you were first diagnosed, we talked about the need to get enough sleep, and most importantly, consistent sleep. And this is why. Your seizure threshold seems to be affected by sleep. For some people it’s flashing lights, others alcohol, but from the sound of it, a lack of sleep could well have been the trigger for this series of seizures.” 

She waited for a reaction from Matt, but when his face remained neutral, she said, “I’d like you to keep a sleep diary in addition to your seizure diary. That way we can see if your seizures align with disrupted sleep patterns. I’ll get you to make an appointment with me for a month’s time and we’ll review then. Okay?” 

Matt gave a silent nod. 

“Any questions?” 

Matt licked his lips. “Mmm... Fog’s right. I haven’t slept much.” 

“Thank you,” Dr Millet said, relieved that this might be Matt entering the ‘coming around after an incident’ phase. “I’ve arranged for you to stay another night. That way you can rest and we can be confident that the string of seizures is at an end. 

Matt nodded, much to the surprise of both Foggy and Dr Millet. In the past, Matt probably would have kicked up a fuss about staying the night, but felt so tired and cranky that all he wanted to do was sleep. 

“Okay,” Dr Millet said, pleased. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning before your discharge.” She paused, “and remember, Matt, patient client confidentiality. Anything you tell me remains strictly between you and me.” 

Matt just raised his left hand in a silent gesture of goodbye. 

As soon as the doctor had left, Foggy said, “so, a few things to talk about. One, everyone here thinks you’re Daredevil.” 

Matt groaned. 

“Two, you _ are _going to keep that sleep diary. And we’re going to have a chat about balance.” 

“I know,” Matt said sleepily. “I’m sorry, Fogs. I got carried away.” 

“Hey, wait what?” 

“I got carried away,” Matt repeated. 

“Oh, that was easier than I thought it would be,” Foggy said, suddenly disarmed. 

“What’s three?” 

“Huh?” 

“You were listing things: one, two, there must be another thing.” 

“And here I was thinking you were off in benzo land.” 

“A bit” Matt said with a lazy smile. He did feel like his head was filled with cotton wool. 

“Three... three...” Foggy snapped his fingers. “Oh yeah, I gave Kirsten a call while you were out. She agreed to help out with a few quick jobs as a trial – just while you’re resting for a few days. Is that okay?” 

Matt nodded. He was a little – actually, no, a _ lot _ disappointed that he wouldn’t be around to induct their new employee. But then again, he was probably better off not being around when Kirsten started. He tended to act rashly around her, doing things like accidentally offering her a job, or not-so-accidentally tripping over her handbag. 

“Excellent,” Foggy said with a clap of his hands. “Well, I might let you sleep. Karen hasn’t cancelled our client meeting for this afternoon, so I’d like to get back for that. Will you be right here on your own? I’ll come back later with your toothbrush and stuff.” 

“Daisy?” Matt croaked. 

“She’s with Karen. I could see if she’d bring Daisy to visit.” 

“No, it’s okay,” Matt replied. He waved Foggy off. “Go, do what you need to do.” 

When Matt woke up the next time, his head was a little clearer. He lay there for a moment, calculating whether or not he had enough energy to get to the bathroom on his own. After attempting and failing to sit up without shaking, he reached for the call button, but just as he was about to press it, he heard his name spoken from the nurse’s station. Some nurses were gossiping. He vaguely recognized their voices, but not well enough to identify them by name. 

“_ You’ve seen him. He’s blind. It’s impossible _.” 

“_ I don’t doubt that he’s blind. His eyes don’t react to light and there’s no way you’d pretend to be blind if you’re not. _” 

“_ I had a cousin who pretended to have a heart condition. _” 

“_ But that’s different. Why would you go to all the trouble of learning braille and all that if you didn’t need to? _” 

“_ Hmmm, t _ _ hat’s true _.” 

“_ Besides, you’ve seen the way he moves. He reaches for objects without looking. You don’t see seeing people do that. _” 

_ “But that’s what makes it kind of plausible. He always seems to know where things are. There’s something weird about the way he moves. _” 

“_ He’s confident, that’s for sure _.” 

“_ So _ _ if he _ is _ Daredevil, his original injury was probably from fighting. _” 

“_ No _ way _ , he’s been blind since he was a kid _.” 

“_ Not the blindness, silly – the brain injury. _” 

“_ Oh yeah... maybe. _” 

“_ Shit. That’s dedication. Wouldn’t you just give up? _” 

Matt raised his eyebrows. 

“_ Yeah, but he’s Daredevil. You don’t become a masked vigilante if you’re worried about yourself _.” 

Foggy would have a field day if he could hear this, Matt thought. 

“_ Is it worth it though? I mean, it’s not just about him. Think about all the money that’s gone into his treatment. Ethically- _” 

“_ But how many lives has he saved? My cousin was saved from a mugging at gunpoint. And do you remember Tash – she was accosted by that gang, but then the man in the mask saved her _.” 

“_ And put half the gang in hospital. More money _.” 

“_ But they were charged. There were outstanding arrest warrants on half of them _.” 

“_ What do you think, Elsa? You’ve been unusually quiet. Is your favorite patient really Daredevil? _” 

Matt frowned. ‘Favorite patient’. He’d been called ‘teacher’s pet’ before, but ‘favorite patient’? Then again, Elsa was his favorite nurse. Matt found himself leaning forward in anticipation of her response. 

“_ I don’t speculate on that kind of thing.... and I don’t think you should either _,” Elsa said crisply. 

“_ But you _ have _ to have an opinion. _” 

“_ Everyone has an opinion, _ ” Elsa replied _ . “It doesn’t mean they have to give it. _” 

Matt sunk back into the pillow, disappointed. 

“_ But we want you to. Come on, Elsa. You’ve been in New York long enough to follow Daredevil’s exploits. You’re part of it _.” 

“_ I think Matt’s a nice man who needs our help _ ,” Elsa said. “ _ That’s my opinion _.” 

“_ But you think he could be Daredevil _,” one of the nurses supplied. 

“_ It doesn’t change the way I treat him, _” Elsa replied, accompanied by a slap of something onto the hollow bench. 

“_ Ha! You _ do _ think he’s Daredevil. _” 

“_ I never said that _,” Elsa replied, but her tone had changed from oppositional to something a little coy. 

Matt had heard enough. He pressed the call button. 

“_ Oooh _ _ , you’d better get that, Elsa, _ ” one of the nurses teased. “ _ Matt needs your help _.” 

“_ Shut up all of you _,” Elsa said, but her tone was more good natured than snappy. 

Matt tried to look nonchalant as Elsa’s rapid footsteps grew louder. 

“Matt, you’re awake,” she said as she entered his room. Her heartbeat was quicker than usual. Was she nervous? 

“It seems so,” Matt replied in a croak. “I’m sorry, but I was wondering if you could help me.” He gestured in the direction of the bathroom. 

“How did you know-” Elsa started, before correcting herself, “sorry, yes, I’ll help you. Do you think you can sit up?” 

As she slowly helped him upright and then to his feet, Elsa was quieter than usual. Normally, the bright nurse would be chatting away as she helped him with tasks like this, but he could feel her eyes on him, watching intently. Despite what she’d told her colleagues, it seemed she was just as curious as they were. 

Afterwards, when Matt was back in bed and Elsa was silently taking his vitals, Matt quietly said “you want to say something.” 

Elsa startled and looked away. “No, I’m just concentrating, that’s all.” Her heartbeat stuttered alongside the evasion. 

Matt sighed. It was probably for the best that he didn’t answer any questions. He closed his eyes and tried to ignore the awkward and unusual silence between them. He felt more isolated than ever. 


	11. Can I help you?

Matt woke to the sound of his phone, “Foggy, Foggy, Foggy, Foggy”. He sluggishly rolled over, trying and failing to locate the phone. 

There was a scuffle from the corner of the room. “Hang on, Matt. I’ll get it.”

Matt scrunched his brow in confusion. “Danny?”

But Danny was already rooting around in Matt’s bag for the phone. “Dang, it rang out.” 

Danny threw a hoodie onto the bed, followed by a t-shirt, Matt’s beloved beanie, a charging cable, an ancient t-shirt, and a toiletries bag. Eventually, he turned to the plastic bag that held Matt’s suit and shirt that he’d been wearing the previous day. Tucked into the suit pocket was Matt’s phone and wallet. “Ah huh! Got it.” Danny dumped the wallet on the table and held the phone out to Matt.

When Matt didn’t respond, Danny said uncertainly, “Um, do you want it?”

Matt licked his cracked lips and said in a croak, “why are you here?”

“Just hanging,” Danny replied with a small shrug.

“Just hanging,” Matt repeated, the  skepticism in his voice clear.

Danny gave a theatrical sigh. “Oh, okay, Foggy asked me to come.”

“Remind me never to put you on the stand,” Matt muttered.

Danny ignored the jab. “How are you, Matt?”

“I’m not sure,” Matt replied before returning to the topic, “how long have you been here?” 

“Um, not long. Maybe an hour.”

“An hour,” Matt whispered. How had he slept through a presence in his room for that long?

“It was a deep sleep,” Danny said brightly, as if reading Matt’s mind.

Matt just gave a grunt in response.

“Um, the phone?” Danny waved the phone in Matt’s direction again.

“Oh, yeah,” Matt said, putting one hand out for the phone and rubbing his eyes with the other. He cleared his throat in preparation for the call, but then  realised his mouth was sandpaper dry. “Er, is there water?”

Clueless, Danny grunted, “huh?”

Matt closed his eyes. He didn’t have the strength. He snapped, “to drink. Is there-” 

“Oh,  _ water _ ,” Danny said, grabbing the jug by the table and filling a cup to the brim. “Oh, shit. Um, it’s kinda full.”

“That’s fine,” Matt replied, eyes still closed. 

As soon as Matt touched the cup, the water was bumped over the edge, spilling onto the blankets and his hospital gown.

“Argh, sorry,” Danny yelped, grabbing some nearby tissues and throwing them at the rapidly spreading liquid.

“Danny, leave it,” Matt growled. “Is there a towel?”

“Um...”

Matt fumbled for the call button and pressed it three times just to be sure.

Elsa appeared at the door barely a minute later. “You’re awake!”

“ Mmmm but there’s some water. It spilled. Is there a towel, or something,” Matt rambled.

“No problem,” Elsa chirped. “Shall we get you up and changed?”

Matt sighed. The last thing he wanted to do at the moment was move. But then he finally clued into his uncomfortably full bladder. “The bathroom – can you-”

“Help? Yep, let’s do this.”

Elsa helped Matt to the bathroom, giving him one arm to hold as he wobbled across the room. It felt like he was wading through setting concrete, such was the effort.

By the time he’d finished, Elsa was tucking in a clean top sheet. “Let’s get you into something a little less damp.”

“Sorry,” said Matt. 

“Sorry,” parroted Danny.

Matt had changed into the mismatched pajamas Danny had brought for him, but Elsa didn’t leave. She hovered at the end of the bed, looking uncomfortable.

“Danny, can you get me a soda?” Matt said. “The machine’s down the hall. My wallet should be-”

“It’s fine. I’ve got cash,” Danny said, jumping up and making for the door. 

Matt waited for Elsa to speak, but after a lengthy silence he finally said, “Elsa, what’s wrong?”

Elsa  hesitated , then started, “I know I should separate you as a patient from your other life.”

Matt raised his eyebrows – a mistake because Elsa shook her head and said, “sorry, forget I asked.”

“No, go on,” Matt urged.

“Well, I have this friend-”

Matt held his hand up for her to stop and seconds later Danny came  barreling back into the room. Clueless to the fact that he’d interrupted a delicate conversation, he said, “you forgot to say which soda.”

Matt replied, “I don't mind”.

“Oh,” Danny  hesitated .

“Surprise me,” Matt said, giving him a small wave.

“Uh, okay.” Danny looked confused, but disappeared down the hallway nonetheless.

Matt said to Elsa, “what were you saying about your friend?”

“My friend. Yes, she’s in a relationship with this creep of a guy. He has this hold over her.”

“Is he violent?”

“Uh, not often. It’s more psychological. He takes all her income, won’t let her out of the house apart from work.” She paused, “I’m sorry, this is a lot. You probably just want to rest.”

Matt waved her off. “It’s fine. But why are you telling me this?” He braced for the moment where he would be forced to lie and tell her he wasn’t Daredevil, but it didn’t come.

“You’re a lawyer. I-I thought you might be able to convince her that there are ways to leave. Can you do  restraining orders and the like?” 

Her heartbeat wavered just a little, but that could mean many things. Matt knew the distinction well enough.

Matt replied, “it’s not that straightforward. She has to  _ want _ help.”

“Yes of course.” Elsa said. “But I think it would be easier if she had someone-” She stopped as Danny returned with three kinds of soda.

“I thought I’d get you a variety,” Danny said as he plonked the cans on the table. “I know how your taste... oh shit, I mean-”

“Thanks, Danny,” Matt interrupted with a meaningful tip of the head. 

He reached for the table and drew out a card from his wallet. “Here, pass it on,” Matt said, holding out the card to Elsa.

She turned it over in her hands, reading “Nelson & Murdock, attorneys at law”. She ran her fingers over the raised bumps that spelled out Matt’s name and number. “Thanks, Matt.”

Once she’d left the room, Danny said, “I thought that was illegal.”

Matt raised one eyebrow.

“Nurse and patient, you know,” Danny said.

“I’m not – that wasn’t what that was about. It’s my business card, Danny.”

“Oh, drumming up business. Smart.”

Matt rolled his eyes. “That’s not – oh never mind.” He rubbed his forehead. “Where were we – oh, Foggy.”

On cue, Matt’s phone started ringing again. “Foggy,” he breathed into the phone. “Can you tell me... Yeah, I’m fine... I am... I am... I don’t need – oh, you are?” Matt leaned back into the pillows and closed his eyes, listening to Foggy monologue about the previous attack in the hospital by  Mr Fear and why Matt needed back up in the relatively public hospital ward. Eventually he interrupted, “okay, okay, I get it.” Matt’s snappy comment only re-energized Foggy. Eventually Matt interrupted with, “Fogs, I’m tired. Can we talk later?” cutting short the one-sided conversation.

As soon as he hung up, Danny said, “so?”

“So,  Foggy’s going to bring dinner soon.”

Matt tipped his head as he heard the dinner cart two rooms down the hallway. “Although for you it might be second dinner,” Matt joked, knowing that Danny would demolish whatever culinary offense was waiting for him on the cart.

As Danny was wolfing down some sort of monstrosity of a chicken stew, Matt heard Elsa talking to one of her colleagues. “Just take his card. He can help.”

The colleague replied, “just leave it.”

“I have a duty of care-”

“ No you don’t, Elsa. You don’t understand. Just leave it.”

Matt tried to place the other woman’s voice. It was thin, lower pitched than Elsa’s. He had not asked Elsa more about her “friend’s” case, but now he regretted that. She told him of all people for a reason. Matt sat upright with a grunt and slowly lowered his legs over the side of the bed.

Danny said with his mouth full, “wait, I’ll help.”

Matt gave him a wave. “I’m fine.”

He was a little wobbly on his feet, but he made it to the door and then slowly made his way up the hall in the direction of the voices, one hand trailing against the wall for support.

The conversation halted suddenly as Matt passed by the small storeroom where they stood. While her colleague kept counting the stock of bandages, Elsa dropped her handful of alcohol wipes.

“Matt,” she said with an edge of uncertainty. “Do you need something?”

“Uh,” Matt croaked before clearing his throat. “Uh could I have – do you have Aspirin or something?”

“I’ll have to check your chart, but yes, I think so. Where does it hurt?”

“Just a headache,” Matt said, his focus trained on the colleague. She was still counting bandages, mumbling numbers under her breath.

“Maybe  Marinah can help,” Elsa said, turning to her colleague.

“No, you go,”  Marinah said, not looking up from the stock.

As Elsa trotted off to the med store, Matt lingered at the door. He could hear  Marinah’s breath change as she debated whether or not to say anything. Head down, Matt waited.  Eventually his head started to spin and he put his hand out to steady himself against the wall. 

“Are you okay, Matt?”  Marinah called.

“Yeah,” Matt grunted.

“Do you need help getting back to your room?”

“Uh, no. I’m- I’m happy to be out.”

Marinah raised her eyebrows, but resumed her counting in silence. 

Matt twisted so that he could lean against the wall. He leant his head back against the cool plaster and closed his eyes, trying to ignore the ache in his head.

He could hear a rowdy group advancing down the hallway towards him. He winced as one of the women chastised her husband in a loud and very thick local accent. They’d just passed him when she stopped and whispered to her husband, “hey, is that the guy? You know.”

“After 27 years of marriage I am still unable to read your mind,” he quipped.

“You know, Daredevil. He was in the paper,” she insisted.

There was a silence as the group turned around at once to  stickybeak on Matt.

“Don’t stare,” she said, hitting her husband on the arm.

“Isn’t he blind?”

“Shhhh...”

The man trotted back to Matt and boomed, “hey, are you Daredevil?”

Matt ignored the man.

His wife shook her phone at him. “Matthew Murdock,” she shrieked.

He addressed Matt again. “Hey, are you Matthew Murdock?”

Matt lifted his head. “Who am I speaking to?”

“Oh, sorry, yeah, Beattie. Bob Beattie. You saved my garage from arsonists a few years back. Thank you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I know, I know,” Bob said. He lowered his voice and said in a stage whisper, “you’re in disguise. I get it.”

Before Matt could refute Bob’s accusation, the man said, “you sick?”

Matt pinched the bridge of his nose. He didn’t have the brain power to properly evade these kinds of questions at the moment.

But in the end, Matt was saved from speaking as Bob said, “yeah, sorry. Stupid question.”

Bob gave Matt a pat on the shoulder. “Look after yourself, Daredevil.”

Matt stood still as the group moved away, whispering about what they’d just seen. He could hear the wife mutter “that explains last night... the kid”, to which her husband replied, “what kid?”. 

“You know,” she snapped.

Matt’s sighed and decided to make his way back to bed. His legs were feeling shaky with fatigue as he shuffled back to his room, one hand on the wall for support. He’d only made it about 10 feet when Marinah peeked out of the storeroom. Matt paused, listening to her faster-than-normal breaths. 

After a moment, she called, “can I help you, Matt?”

This time Matt nodded, holding out a hand for assistance. They walked back to his now empty room in silence.

Matt made a quick decision and said to  Marinah , “now, can I help  _ you _ ?”


End file.
